Behind Blue Eyes
by DJ Sparkles
Summary: How far will Horatio go to get revenge on Riaz and the Mala Noche? FRM, AU, slash in later chapters. Spoilers for all seasons including season 4 finale. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.**

**SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.**

**FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!**

**PART ONE**

Horatio Caine had an eventful morning. Not so much in the way of crime scenes, which was a blessing… but he had an agenda and was working toward it diligently. Every informant, snitch, and suspected gangbanger he could find had received a visit… much to their surprise and dismay.

The fifth punk ended up against the side of the Hummer with Horatio up in his face. "I want to talk to your jefe, Paco, and I'm not going to be patient about it. I know you're running with the Solaras Nuevas." The boy was pale, but still defiant. Horatio got a little closer, using his greater height as an intimidation. "Tell Pacheco he's got four hours."

He let the boy go, watching as he scampered away. Would this work? It had to. There was no other way, now. Riaz had eluded the police in Brazil; as he had known would happen. He had put the word out as far as he was able. Now he would just have to wait.

* * *

Sunset saw him on the beach, looking out over the ocean, as he had done many times before when troubled. The day had been more than trying; Eric was beyond fury as well, but there was nothing to be done. Nothing save the steps he was already taking. Calleigh understood… and she was being so quietly sympathetic that Horatio wanted at times to strangle her. Wolfe… Wolfe was Wolfe, quietly capable, but furious on his friends' behalf. And never mind the discovery of the mole. Natalia Boa Vista would have a hard time overcoming the reputation she had earned.

His cell phone sounded and he answered it absently. "Caine."

"You have been very persistent today, Lieutenant Caine," Carlos Pacheco purred menacingly. "You understand my hesitation to meet with you, I am certain. What is it you wish?"

"Not over the phone, Carlos," Horatio replied smoothly. "Name your time and place, I'll be there. No strings, no traps, my word on it."

"You sound so very desperate. Very well. Come to my home, on Star Island. Look behind you." Horatio did so with a frown. An expensive black car was pulling to the curb and it flashed its lights imperiously. "You will be searched and brought to me. Then we will talk." The phone went dead in his hand.

Horatio flipped it closed and trudged up the beach to the waiting car. The search was accomplished with no fuss; thorough and emotionless. Everything was confiscated and placed into a bag, which he was assured would be returned to him on the completion of the meeting. Then it was a not so quick ride over to Star Island, where he was escorted into a modest - for Star Island, anyway - dwelling and out to the deck. It looked like Carlos Pacheco was sitting down to dinner.

Horatio took the indicated seat across from him and waited.

"Some wine, Lieutenant?" Pacheco asked smoothly as he filled another glass. "It is an excellent vintage. Come, you should try it."

Horatio took a sip and regarded the glass steadily. "Very nice," he replied noncommittally. "If we're going to be civilized, I should thank you for the invitation to your home." He raised an eyebrow at his host.

Pacheco snorted. "As I should thank you for so graciously accepting my invitation. I am curious, however. Why should such a respected member of the community, a decorated police office, seek out one such as myself?" He placed his wineglass on the table and steepled his hands before him. "We are not of the same circles, you and I."

Horatio took a deep breath and another sip of the wine before placing his own glass on the table and meeting Pacheco's eye fearlessly. "I need a favor, Carlos, and you are in a unique position to offer your assistance," he said blandly. "Riaz." This word, however, was filled with fury and scorn.

Pacheco sat back, considering, and sipped at his wine again. Caine had come to him… how to be certain this was no trap for his compatriots? "And what do you offer in exchange, Lieutenant?" he asked finally, twirling the stem of the glass in his fingers and keeping his voice politely enquiring. If it was a trick, Caine would not leave alive.

"In return… in return, Carlos, I am offering a golden opportunity for you. I can arrange mishandling of evidence, enough to keep your business running smoothly." The words were ashes in his mouth, but there would have to be a price paid for justice. Riaz didn't deserve to live and Horatio had made a promise to Eric that he intended to keep.

"But you could so easily accomplish this yourself, Caine, unless you are afraid to get your hands dirty," Pacheco snapped, thoroughly insulted now. He could see clearly that the detective was playing him for a fool and said as much. "That you are offering to do so, in exchange for cooperation must be a trick. The answer is no."

Horatio stood and paced a few steps. "I wish it were that simple, Carlos," he said evenly. "The State Department is blocking my travel visa. I can't get to him. You can. I am well aware your… operation… is global." He met Pacheco's gaze, his own eyes burning with rage and pain. "You help me, I help you. Everyone wins."

"Don't beg, Caine, it doesn't become you. Sit." Pacheco considered for a few moments. "Perhaps what you offer isn't enough," he said slowly, obviously considering every word. "Perhaps, perhaps I wish something more - hands on."

H looked at the floor for a moment before again regarding the other man fearlessly.

"Name your price."

(TBC)


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

NOTE: Underlined words/phrases are spoken in Spanish.

**Part Two**

Pacheco held Horatio's gaze for a long moment before slowly nodding his head. "The price may be too high, Horatio," he said easily as he contemplated his wineglass again. "I will consider your request. Please, enjoy your meal." A flick of his wrist and an elegant setting was placed before Horatio as well. "My cook is very accomplished," he said noncommittally.

Horatio shrugged and turned his attention to his plate, keeping his mind occupied while wondering where the woman had come from. He certainly hadn't seen her when he came in; and his guide through the house had been male. Pacheco finished his own meal and became lost in thought. And when it was empty, Horatio rose, choosing to pace the floor a bit while waiting. He was gazing out at the ocean again when Pacheco cleared his throat.

"This offer intrigues me, Horatio. It begs the question: How far will you go to see Riaz dead?" Pacheco held up a hand to forestall any response Horatio might make. "If the price is too high, you will leave here tonight, and when next we meet, it will be as enemies. If you agree--- then your life will change forever. Think carefully before you answer."

He twirled a cigar around his fingers, carefully no longer looking in Horatio's direction. "What I require from you is this. I am in need of someone who is intimately acquainted with the workings of the crime scene investigators. Who knows what to look for, and how to avoid leaving evidence in the first place. Who can double as an enforcer. And who will be fiercely loyal to my safety and protection. Decide. Now."

It took all of thirty seconds for Horatio to think it over. With a pang of regret, he met Pacheco's level gaze with his own. "Done."

Carlos smiled, a wicked, frightening expression. A gesture brought another man to his side; with a start, Horatio realized he must have been there all along. Had he become so single-minded that he had forgotten his own safety? It seemed he had. But Pacheco wasn't finished.

"Cordero will see that you effectively disappear. You will remain with us, now, as my guest. Give him your keys." Horatio did so with a stab of pain at what he was giving up. The other man left, and Pacheco continued implacably. "Juanita will see you to your room. Weapons will be provided; and if you will get together a list of necessities, she will see that you receive them. Relax, enjoy yourself tonight. Tomorrow you will instruct Cordero in how to avoid detection. In return, he will teach you your duties as enforcer." He waited only until Horatio had nodded acceptance and gave a careless wave of his hand.

Come with me, Juanita said quickly, and Horatio followed the girl through the maze of the house to a lavish bedroom on the eastern side. It is late, you should rest. And for your safety, until he has given the word, you should stay here. It would be a shame for you to get hurt. She gave him a direct gaze, as though assessing him. I will wake you early. Get me a list of what you want, and I'll see that you get it.

"Thank you," he replied evenly. But once she had gone, sleep wouldn't come. He spent most of the night at the window, watching the ocean. One thought kept beating in his mind --- what had he done? But there was no turning back.

Finally, sometime near dawn, he slept.

(TBC)


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Three**

Calleigh stopped Eric when she saw him. "Have you seen Horatio this morning?" she asked softly. It didn't do to discuss things too openly. There were too many ears listening that shouldn't be. "He's late and that's not like him. He's not answering his cell either." Her green eyes were concerned.

"I haven't seen him." Eric was angry at Horatio, for a lot of reasons, and this just made it worse. He and Horatio had intended to be in Brazil this morning, but the travel visas had been blocked. Had Horatio found a way to go without telling Eric? It didn't seem likely… but it was possible. "You check his office?"

"Too quiet. Everything is where he left it last night. He hasn't been there yet." Calleigh thought for a moment. "I'll check with HR, maybe he took a personal day. You keep trying his cell."

Calleigh's phone beeped a message at her and she checked it curiously. "It's Tripp," she said to Eric. She called the detective back quickly. "Frank, Calleigh, what's up?"

"Just listen for a sec, k? I'm trying to keep it under the radar for now. Get Eric, meet me on Brickell just south of 95 near Wainwright Park. Got something you should see." There was a pause and Calleigh could hear traffic in the background. "And put a rush on it, will ya? I don't know how long I can keep this under wraps."

Calleigh agreed and flipped her phone closed, taking Eric by the arm. "Get Ryan, meet us at Wainwright Park on Brickell. Frank's got something he doesn't want broadcast yet." She wondered, but speculation didn't accomplish anything.

The drive was uneventful, and she made good time. It was still early yet. She pulled up next to Frank's car and got out, grabbed her kit, and headed over. Her first thought when she saw the other Hummer was that Horatio had beaten her to the scene, and then she remembered that he hadn't been answering his pages or calls. A cold finger of dread touched her, and she forced it down ruthlessly. "Hey, sweetie, what's up?" she called as she closed the distance between herself and the detective.

Frank pulled her in close to huddle. "Found it on my way in this morning. No sign of the driver, no signs of forced entry, it was just sittin' here; but take a look on the seat."

Calleigh went to the vehicle, her heart in her mouth. One look told her what she had known when she first saw it.

On the seat lay everything that had identified Horatio Caine. Weapons, badge, wallet… and the keys were in the ignition. Even his cell was there, placed where it was certain to be seen. She looked up with fear in her eyes as Eric and Ryan pulled up. She drew them over as well and conferred with the three men. "We have to call it in. By the book, guys, we don't want any question about what's going on. Everything is documented to the letter. This place will be crawling with uniforms as soon as the call goes in. And until we know for certain what happened here, we double up. Ryan, you're with me; Frank, you and Eric search the area. We don't know what happened yet. Maybe someone saw something." She gave them all her best stern look. "Let's get to work."


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

Final Note: Once again, underlined phrases denote Spanish.

**Part Four**

Horatio was awake when Juanita came to retrieve him. Cordero had obviously been to the house; he had found several of his suits in the closet when he woke, so he at least had a change of clothing. Thoughtful of them, really; but it left evidence of the other man in his space. Not so thoughtful if they were trying to avoid detection. He'd have to talk to Cordero. And the idea that the man had been in the room while he slept really wasn't pleasant, or comforting.

Juanita was brightly cheerful this morning, and for a moment, it reminded him of Calleigh. He cut off the comparison before it could go far and reminded himself that Calleigh was no longer a part of his life, nor was Eric. Nor Ryan. The thought hurt more than he could have imagined and he clamped down on the pain, willing it into submission.

"Buenos dias, Senor Caine," Juanita was saying easily, and Horatio forced his attention back to her. "Do you have a list for me?" It was spoken in English, and very slowly. He thought perhaps that she was trying to be kind to him, and he smiled slightly.

I do, he replied firmly as he switched to Spanish in deference to her. These things are all I need. Can you get them?

Easily. Don't worry. Senor Pacheco has passed the word. No one will bother you. And now he would like you to meet him downstairs, by the pool. She went to work straightening the already neat room and Horatio took the hint, finding his way to the pool and seating himself across from his new boss among several other men. One or two of them he recognized and returned glare for glare, letting them know he wouldn't be intimidated by them.

Pacheco laughed derisively. "Senor Caine is a guest in my home," he remarked idly. The words carried an edge and most of the others grudgingly accepted Horatio's place among them. "He is here by my invitation. He will be helping us to avoid the police." His eyes glittered, but whether it was with amusement or irritation wasn't clear.

You can't be serious! One of the other men rose in protest. You think he would turn? You're a fool.

Horatio exploded from his chair and slammed the objector against the wall, one arm across his throat and the other grabbing his weapon. The muzzle came to rest against the Nueva's forehead and the message was clear. "That wasn't very a very nice thing to say, Miguel," he declared menacingly. "You shouldn't insult your host." He was aware of the guns aimed at him, but he wouldn't back down. Pacheco was watching closely; if he relented, it would be a sign of weakness.

"You won't shoot me. Cops don't commit murder." But Miguel was beginning to wonder. He started to sweat when the only answer he received was the click of the hammer being drawn back.

Enough! Pacheco's voice cut like a knife across the tableau. "Horatio, let him go. You have made your point. Miguel, do you dislike your life so much you must antagonize my one of my enforcers?"

Neither man moved, neither willing to give the other the upper hand. Finally Horatio released the hammer and drew back, flipping the gun as though to hand it back and at the last moment, bringing up his hand in a driving movement. His hand connected with Miguel's cheek with a solid snap, sending him to the ground with blood spraying from the cut the pistol grip had opened on his left cheek. Horatio stood over him and glared for a moment, then unloaded the weapon and dropped it beside Miguel. "Get a decent gun. A .38 will let you down when you need it. Not enough stopping power."

Pacheco was grinning when Horatio returned to the table. "Bravo," he said simply. "Are there any other objections to my decision?" The silence remained unbroken and he relaxed back against his chair. "Horatio, since you have objected to one weapon, perhaps you should check the others." It was another test, of sorts.

"You heard the man. Turn them out." Horatio went through the line, checking the weapons carefully. "They're okay, if you want to get caught the first time you use them," he growled. "They'll need to be modified, disguise the rifling in each barrel. Clean them or they'll let you down. Misfire." Another memory surfaced and was ruthlessly tamped back down. Speed hadn't cleaned his weapon, and it had cost him his life. "I'll check them again this afternoon."

Pacheco merely held his tongue and smiled. Horatio was proving to be an asset, indeed. Miguel had needed a lesson, and the redhead had delivered admirably. He still couldn't completely trust the man, of course; that would be foolish. He motioned to Cordero, whose weapon had passed inspection without comment. "Watch him. If he makes any attempt to contact the wrong people, kill him."

* * *

Calleigh let herself into the house with a sense of trepidation. Frank was backing her up; there were uniforms also present; but the fact remained, they didn't know what they were walking into. 

Her first thought when she had seen Horatio's things placed so neatly on the seat had been suicide, but that just didn't fit with everything she knew about Horatio Caine. He'd been her friend for years, and nothing she had encountered in that time made her believe he would take his own life.

Hopefully, the answers she needed would be here, in Horatio's home. Something had to give; so far, they had nothing on nothing. Eric and Ryan were at the lab, processing the Hummer. This, she wanted to do herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust them to do the job, not at all. It was the need to do something hands on to help find her friend.

Whatever had happened, robbery hadn't been the motive. Everything in the wallet was intact, even the cash. No credit cards missing, nothing disturbed. She ruthlessly hauled her mind back to the present; if she missed something here, before the scene was clear, she could very well end up dead. And dead didn't find Horatio.

Of course, she had more help than she could profitably use. When the call had gone out on a missing officer, every active cop in the city that wasn't actually in process converged on the site. It was standard procedure. One of their own had disappeared; they would move heaven and earth to find him. Calleigh was still hoping to find him somewhere near the primary scene, near Wainwright Park; but realistically she knew that the longer he stayed missing, the slimmer the chances were of finding him alive. Something had happened; they just had to figure out what it was.

She played her crime light around again, her weapon held securely in the other hand. She heard other officers clearing individual rooms; she would check them in order. If it took all day, fine. Horatio's disappearance took precedence over all other cases, as far as she was concerned.

Something wasn't right. The house was… it was too empty, somehow. There was plenty of ambient noise, especially with the officers clearing it; but she got no sense that Horatio had been here. It was a feeling, nothing more, but it gave her a cold knot of dread in the pit of her stomach.

Frank came back to her with a nod. "House is clear. Nobody home." He, too, was more than concerned. He and Horatio weren't best buds… but they were friends. And he'd worked with the redhead long enough to know when something was really wrong.

"If robbery wasn't the motive, maybe he meant to disappear." Calleigh was talking more to keep things straight in her own mind, but she knew that Frank was listening closely as well. It helped, sometimes, to have someone else to bounce the thoughts off of. "First place we need to check is his closet." She moved slowly, making certain to clear the path before placing her feet. It wouldn't do to compromise evidence on the way to her destination; but she doubted somehow that she would find anything here. High traffic areas like this hallway were a minefield of trace, but usually it wasn't a lot of help.

The bedroom was the logical place to start. If she ruled out suicide --- which she really shouldn't do yet, there was no evidence to say otherwise --- there should be some clue in the closet. Clothes missing… or not missing… could be significant. She'd start there. "Frank, will you check out the answering machine? Besides the five or so calls I made this morning, I mean. See what you find. I'll be here."

She watched him leave the room and sighed. Horatio was a very private man, and going through his things --- she didn't want to violate his privacy any more than necessary. She dusted the closet doorknob before opening it. There were a few clear prints, but they were probably Horatio's. Best to rule out an intruder, though. So she lifted the prints… and opened the door.

Empty. The closet was empty. But did that mean he had taken his things, or had someone else taken them? Her eyes swept the closet closely, looking for anything out of place.

Horatio was organized, so much so it seemed to border on OCD, she thought. Everything seemed to have its place; with a groan, she registered the indentations where a suitcase had rested. She still didn't know who had packed it. No giving up yet. Her fingers felt along the shelf above the bar, searching for she didn't know what.

"Hello, beautiful," she said softly as she brought down the gun case. It had been near the back, obviously concealed. Not dusty, but not often used, either. Quickly she processed the outside and flipped the catch.

Empty. Her mind whirled with the possibilities. Either he had taken the weapon with him, along with his clothes, or there was something more to this. She was just closing the case when Frank came back. "Find anything, Frank?"

"Not a thing. Your calls this morning." Frank looked over the small case with a raised eyebrow. "No signs of forced entry, no signs of struggle, just like the Hummer. What are you thinking?"

"Wherever he went, he went on his own," Calleigh replied steadily. "I've got a missing suitcase in the closet, and no clothes left behind. And the empty case from his backup gun." She shook her head. Why hadn't he taken the case? It wasn't like Horatio to be careless of his weapon. "I've got more questions now than I had when we got here."

She gave the rest of the room the same thorough examination, but came up empty. The rest of the house yielded the same result and she groaned in frustration. "It's looking more and more like he left on his own," she said slowly. "I'll know for certain once we get these prints run. You get anything from the neighbors?"

"Nope. Whatever happened, it happened yesterday. Nobody saw him come in last night, nobody saw any lights on, nada." Frank was grim. "You don't think he found a way to head for Brazil, do you? After those news reports yesterday ---"

"No way. He'd have taken Eric with him, for one. No, their travel visas were still being blocked." Calleigh straightened and headed for her own vehicle. "Speculation is useless, hon. Let's see what the evidence tells us."

(TBC)


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. Likewise for Melissa… you have been a blessed saint for listening to my rants of late. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Five**

Horatio took the weapon Cordero handed him without question. It was the Browning Hi-Power he'd kept for a backup, obviously reclaimed from the closet in his home. He nodded his thanks to Cordero as he checked it. "Clean and unfired, Cordero, thank you," he said as he slipped it into a shoulder rig. "Did you by chance bring the case?"

Cordero shook his head. "You should always use a case if you have one," he explained patiently. "If you protect your weapon, it will protect you. Too late now." His disappearance had undoubtedly been noted and was being investigated. There was far too much risk involved in trying to get anything else from the house. Someone --- probably Calleigh --- would be processing there, trying to find answers.

Cordero hung his head slightly and then returned his level gaze to Horatio's face, awaiting instruction. Pacheco had assigned him to the redhead as both bodyguard and captor for the time being, so he would accept the orders Horatio gave him. Within reason. "You were going to teach me about evidence," he rumbled softly.

"Have a seat, 'Dero, we need to establish something first." Horatio sat across from him and put both arms on the table. He had heard the nickname from one of the other Nuevas, and was determined to put the man at ease, but this needed to be said. "I am… I am your equal, here, now. That means you do not invade my privacy, are we clear?" For all his bulk, Cordero was amazingly light on his feet. It still bothered Horatio that he hadn't heard any intrusion the night before, and he didn't want to put a bullet in his second without a good reason.

"I used to do burglary. Hard sometimes to remember to make noise. I'll work on it." The big man shrugged eloquently. "No real privacy here, anyway. El Jefe say search, we search. You didn't move, so we're good. I'll try to warn you next time."

"See that you do." Horatio looked off into the middle distance again. "Tell me what you did at the house, 'Dero, I need all the details. We need to know how much evidence might have been left. The team looking for me is going to be the best."

Cordero complied, explaining that he had worn gloves and had taken the time to choose his entry point carefully. After all, he was larger than Horatio and of a different build. The neighbors would have noticed him, though he had used the key. So he had entered under cover of darkness from the rear.

Horatio nodded with each point made, thinking idly the man had made a good burglar. If his crimes had been in Miami, they were some of the many unsolved cases; Horatio had certainly never encountered him before. "There's always a chance you'll leave part of yourself behind, no matter how careful you are. Hair is always shedding, regardless of how well-groomed you are." He again took a moment of thought. "If it's there, it's there," he said finally. "I need to know --- are you in any of the official databases?"

Cordero shook his head. "No arrests, no suspicions," he replied, almost proudly. "Not since I came here from Nicaragua."

Horatio nodded. The big man wouldn't be the problem when it came to evidence, that was clear to him. He might even be useful in helping the others keep from leaving any. "From now on, you police your brass, too. You fire a weapon, you find the casings. Leave them behind and your weapon can be traced." He knew from experience that most of the gangs' weapons were stolen, and probably already in the system. "I want everyone to understand that." He caught and held the other man's gaze, silently reinforcing the order.

"Sometimes you don't have time." Cordero returned the stare unflinchingly. "We go in, make a hit, get out. Sometimes the cops are there before we're gone."

"Then we need to plan better raids, don't we?" Horatio's mind was turning. "Or find more weapons. Order of the day, gentlemen," he remarked over his shoulder to the audience that had gathered to listen to the discussion. "Gloves at all times, police your brass when there's time. Ditch the gun if there isn't."

He received a few nods and one nasty glare. He shrugged mentally; Miguel was dead weight and would get himself caught that much sooner. He'd have no time to cause problems for Horatio. He returned to his lecture on trace evidence without a thought.

* * *

Eric was ready to break something. They'd found nothing in the Hummer. No prints, no biologicals, no trace, nothing to indicate anyone but H had ever been in the thing.

He ran everything again, and the stupid computer told him the same thing. No hits in AFIS. The only prints were Horatio Caine's. He groaned and was about to turn to something else when Ryan stuck his head in. "You'd better see this," he growled. "I'm gonna kill her. After I find out where she got this."

Eric followed him into the A/V lab where Cooper had queued up a local newscast for them. "I know you guys said you wanted to keep this quiet, but anyone with a police scanner heard the call this morning," he said apologetically. "Probably where she got it."

"…this is Erica Sikes reporting. There's been no response so far to requests from the Miami-Dade Police Department for information regarding the disappearance of Lieutenant Horatio Caine. The Lieutenant's vehicle was found abandoned near Wainwright Park this morning, but we've been unable to discover whether or not foul play is suspected. The disappearance comes not twenty-four hours after the deported Mala Noche leader, Antonio Riaz, managed to escape from a Brazilian prison. Riaz and Caine remain bitter enemies after Riaz was convicted and deported for the shooting that claimed the life of Caine's wife. They were only married a few short hours before she was cut down.

"The question now is has Lieutenant Caine become the latest victim of the notorious Mala Noche, or has he decided to personally seek vengeance? We will keep you updated throughout the day as information becomes available."

It certainly didn't help Eric's temper any. He slammed a fist against the wall, cursing violently in Cuban and Russian.

"She got it off the scanner, she had to," Ryan snarled. "And there will be speculation, now that she's thrown out the question. Not that anyone would believe it, not from H."

"I would." Ryan turned to look at Eric in shock. "He was ready to go yesterday. So was I. Only thing stopping us was the State Department blocking the visas." Eric's face became, if possible, even angrier.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Calleigh said firmly as she stormed into the room. "You two get busy. There's trace here, and some prints from Horatio's house. I want to know about everything when I come back in. I am going to get some answers from that woman."

Cooper had decided discretion was the better part of self-preservation and fled while Ryan and Eric were talking. Now he peeked out as Calleigh went past, only to pull his head back in and decide he didn't want to brave her temper at the moment either. He'd give them all a chance to calm down before he went back to work.

"That was a nice speech, Erica," Calleigh was saying as she stepped across the Crimelab's lawn toward the other woman. "Want to tell me where you got the idea that Horatio could do such a thing?"

"Would you like to comment on the investigation?" At Calleigh's frosty smile, she faltered. "Fine. It was all speculation. Care to set me straight?" Another chilly smile really began to wear at Erica's composure. "Come on, Calleigh, you have to know something. You're the starting lineup, the varsity team, the big guns. You can't tell me you guys don't know anything more than that he's disappeared."

"You're right. I can't tell you that. But I can't tell you that we do, either." Calleigh's gaze was positively glacial. "You just don't get it, do you? You just compromised this investigation with useless conjecture and probably put Horatio into a great deal of danger. Did you think of that? No, of course you didn't. I'm warning you right now. If he ends up hurt… or worse… as a result of this broadcast I will personally see you arrested and convicted for obstruction of justice." She turned to walk away.

Erica called after her. "Wait just one minute, Duquesne," she growled. "If you think I'm the first person who's had that thought, try again. You might want to talk to Internal Affairs. I understand they are quite interested in Caine's whereabouts, too. Maybe more than you are." She turned away and got into the news van.

Calleigh shook her head in denial, but she knew it was probably true. Rick Stetler had been out to crucify Horatio for a long time, and this might give him the ammunition.

She needed to get back inside. The guys were a couple of loaded weapons with hair-triggers, and she needed to catch them before they went off again.

(TBC)


	6. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. Likewise for Melissa… you have been a blessed saint for listening to my rants of late. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Six**

"You think they will listen to you?" Miguel scoffed as he approached. Horatio rose to meet him as the others formed a loose ring around them. Cordero was at Horatio's back, but said nothing. He would be there if the worst happened, but at the moment was content to let the redhead handle Miguel.

"I think, Miguel, that if they want to avoid the police, they'll do exactly as I say," Horatio replied evenly, keeping his eye trained on the other man carefully. He had expected a showdown before too long --- but he had hoped to avoid it for at least the first twenty-four hours. The other man had been needling him all day, with no success. Class clown stuff, really; muffled jibes, the equivalent of spitballs to the back of the head. Horatio had passed it off since Miguel had kept it short of an outright challenge. Now, it looked like the situation had changed.

"And what makes you think they believe you? Come on, straight shooter like you, took down Riaz and the Noches… you want me to believe you'll help us now?" Miguel had realized they had drawn even more of an audience and smirked. "I think they are looking for your answer."

"You want an answer, Miguel? How's this." Horatio's weapon was in his hand and firing before the words died in the silence following the shot. He reholstered the weapon smoothly without taking his eyes from the body. "Cordero, would you take out the trash, please. Gentlemen, are there any other doubts about my presence here?" He looked them over carefully before slipping on his sunglasses and turning away. "I'll be with the boss. I expect to see those weapons cleaned and ready when I come back."

* * *

"Calleigh, I got something," Eric was saying as he ducked into the room, only to stop still and stare. The Chief of Police was with Calleigh? What was going on? "Um, I can wait." 

"No, Eric, it's okay." Calleigh didn't know how to put it to her friend; it wasn't going to go over well. "We were… just discussing the lab." She had to tell this gently, and maybe she wasn't the one to tell it. Her eyes cut to the Chief.

He picked up the cue like the politician he was. "I've asked CSI Duquesne to take over as temporary day shift supervisor," he said easily. "With Lieutenant Caine missing, we need to have someone in his place, and I have the utmost confidence in her ability to run this lab as well as Horatio." Calleigh thought it sounded like a set speech, probably the one he planned to make on the air when the announcement was released.

Eric looked from one to the other, his expression darkening. "I, uh, just wanted to give you this, Calleigh," he said as he dropped the file on the desk. It was one thing for her to 'borrow' Horatio's office, he thought, but another to have her completely take over. He had known she was using the office, of course --- she had stepped in and taken charge very efficiently. He hadn't been ready for that, and it added one more straw to his already aching back.

The Chief was more than sensitive to the undercurrents and made his exit. Calleigh gave Eric a level gaze, assessing, and finally dropped her eyes. "Tell me what you've got," she said easily. She knew he was angry, but she wasn't certain whether it was work or personal that had him so furious.

"Found some coarse grit under the driver's seat. Not sure yet whether it's a lead, but Trace is running it now." Eric knew he sounded surly, but he wouldn't adjust his tone. "Maybe we'll find something unique."

"We follow up on everything, Eric." Calleigh was trying to understand his anger. What had happened now? Riaz was out of his reach, that was part of it, but there seemed to be more there than that would account for. She made certain the door was firmly closed, though it wouldn't matter much. The office was a fishbowl, all glass. "Tell me what's wrong, okay? I'm your friend, Eric, but we need to move on this. Horatio is out there waiting for us to find him."

"What's wrong?" Eric snapped back. "Riaz. H. Marisol. And now you." Fury crackled from every syllable. "Damn it, Calleigh, we haven't even found a body and you're already taking over!"

Calleigh stared at him for a moment in shock before she found her voice. "I don't think that's fair," she said quietly. "And I'm sorry you feel that way. It's only temporary, Eric, until we find Horatio. Someone has to run things."

"And that someone has to be you, right? You have to control everything, Calleigh, don't you? Why stop here, huh? Why not try for the whole department?" Eric knew he was being unreasonable, but something had finally snapped. He could feel himself melting down, the stark fury of his inability to resolve any of the issues confronting him overwhelming his common sense. "That's cold, Calleigh. We're still trying to find H and you're acting like he's already in his grave. You're worse than Stetler."

Calleigh recoiled as though she'd been slapped. "Get out, Eric. Go get yourself under control. I need you here but I will not hesitate to suspend you if you don't get a grip." The words were no less commanding for all the deceptive quiet of them. And after he had gone, she forced herself to go through the motions, checking in with the others, looking for things that might have been overlooked, and generally making herself busy. But the pain of those words stayed with her.

(TBC)


	7. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. Likewise for Melissa… you have been a blessed saint for listening to my rants of late. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Seven**

Ryan was going over the gun case Calleigh had retrieved from Horatio's house. Nothing so far… but there had to be a reason it had been left behind. They all knew H was never careless of his weapon. If he had left on his own, maybe he had left them a clue.

Nothing so far, though. He had printed the case, though Calleigh had already done so; doubling up also protected them from hints of impropriety. They'd had enough of those lately. The only prints on it were H's.

He wasn't deterred. There had to be something. He'd even brought a magnifier to check the interior of the case. Something on the edge caught his eye and he tweezed out the hair and studied it carefully. It was dark, so it definitely wasn't Horatio's. Carefully he bagged it and finished checking things over. Then he sealed up all the evidence once more and logged everything back into the evidence locker, and went to the DNA lab. "Valera, can I get a rush on this?"

Valera took the sample from him and looked it over. "From Horatio's house? I know that's what everyone is working on. I'll see what I can get right now." She clipped her words off quickly. After the whole fiasco with a federal investigation and nearly losing her job, she was afraid to say too much. "I'll page you."

"Thanks." Ryan left in a hurry. He needed to report to Calleigh --- that was a strange thought, Calleigh, not H --- but he wanted to talk to someone else first. He swung into the Trace lab. "Aaron, you get anything on that grit, yet?"

"Silica, not grit. A kind of sand." Aaron handed him the sheet. "Doesn't help much, since Miami has a lot of beach. But it's a start. I'm running a more detailed analysis now. I'll page you."

Ryan nodded his thanks and headed out. He needed to find Eric. The scene he'd witnessed in the office earlier had him spooked. Eric was a hothead, but then, so was he, and he'd never seen Eric lose it so completely. That was much more Ryan's own scene. He didn't know what the argument had been about, either, but he could guess. Eric had so much stress right now, it was inevitable that he'd melt down. He'd just chosen the wrong time to do it, as usual.

He found Eric in the Print lab, poring over the results from the gun case. "Only prints we found were Horatio's," he said easily as he stepped close, and for a moment he thought Eric was going to take a swing at him.

Eric took a deep breath and visibly collected himself. "Doesn't hurt to keep looking," he snapped. He took another deep breath. "Sorry, Wolfe. I'm having a hard time with this."

Ryan thought that was a massive understatement, but held his tongue. He nodded. "Can't be easy. Something you said earlier kind of got to me, Eric, you want to explain it?" He wanted to ask about the fight with Calleigh, but he knew if he did Delko would simply explode again. "You said you'd believe H going on a rampage trying to get to Riaz. Why? H is a straight arrow, always was. I've never seen him as anything else."

"You didn't see him at the cemetery, when Park told us Riaz was going to walk." Eric shook his head. "Cold, man, cold as ice, but still way past rage. I've never seen him like that. Don't really want to, either. H pissed off is scary… but the way he was there… his eyes, man, they were just… empty. Nothing but hate. And I was ready to back him up."

Eric put trembling hands onto the table. "I think that's the worst of it. He was ready to kill, you could see it in his eyes. Not all there, like… like he'd lost himself, somehow. Like he'd just dropped all the morals he lived by, just let everything go but the hate. There wasn't anything left of _him_."

"Hey, you okay?" Ryan was watching Eric shake and getting way past concerned. "We'll find him, and when we do, he can explain all this, okay? I just can't believe H would throw everything away like this."

"Wasn't just H, Wolfe. One look in those eyes --- I was ready to throw everything away along with him and watch his back. It was way past scary. It was like looking in a black hole or something." He shook his head again and would have said more, but Ryan's pager was going off and he took the time while Ryan was on the phone to get himself back under control.

Ryan hung up with a growl of frustration. "That was Valera. I found a hair in the gun case. It wasn't Horatio's, it was dark, so I sent it up to her. She can't find a match. Whoever he is, he's not in the system." He thought for a second and decided to get it over with. "I, um, need to bring Calleigh up to speed," he remarked hesitantly.

"I'll come with you," Eric replied as he stood up. "I kind of owe her an apology, I think. If she'll take it."

* * *

Horatio didn't flinch when Pacheco's hand hit the desktop. The deed was done, and he would defend it if necessary. 

"You did _what?"_ Carlos was thundering. "Horatio, I agree discipline must be kept, but killing Miguel? Was it truly necessary? One of your own men?"

"Yes." The word was a whipcrack in the stillness following the question. "You know as well as I do that the best way to keep discipline is with fear. And if you want me to be an effective enforcer, he couldn't be allowed to challenge my authority." He gave his boss a sidelong glance. "They'll toe the line now, your line. Afraid one of them will be next."

Carlos nodded thoughtfully. "You surprise me, Horatio. I had thought your coming here was a trick, a trap for us. Now, I am not so certain." It was a powerful argument for the man to have changed sides. A police officer would not have committed outright murder; and yet Horatio had done so. Without a qualm, too, it seemed. Without hesitation. Still, he wondered. A slow, wicked smile crossed his lips as greed won out. "Take Cordero, have him show you where to go, who to see. I think it is time Miami met my newest enforcer."

(TBC)


	8. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. Likewise for Melissa… you have been a blessed saint for listening to my rants of late. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Eight**

The next morning was a madhouse. They had learned nothing the day before, and Horatio was still missing. Calleigh was wracking her brain trying to come up with something more to add when the call came in.

Everyone was scrambling. She logged her evidence back into the locker and headed out, knowing Eric and Ryan would be on their way also. All hands on deck meant just that.

Memories surfaced and she fought them down; for a moment, the past seesawed crazily with the present. Visions of Speed with the paramedics as they began processing warred with the knowledge that he was gone.

Someone had hit the Dispo van.

She got to the scene and was able to calm herself slightly, center herself enough to get to work. "I want the traffic cams downloaded and screened right now. Eric, start with the driver, he's still conscious. Ryan, see what else you can find." She was already in her gloves and headed across the street where a burned out car sat. "The report said this car exploded as the van was adjacent," she began evenly as Frank joined her. "That indicates prior knowledge of the route and the date of the evidence disposal unit." She frowned. "We'll have IAB here in no time so we'd better have something solid to give them."

Frank had pulled on gloves also. "So what am I looking for, exactly?" he asked as he began to look over the vehicle. "Big car, had to be a big device to do this much damage. Knocked over the van, too, so it had a lot of punch."

Calleigh nodded. "It was either timed perfectly or they had a watcher," she explained as she started snapping photos. "To go off just as the van passed, I'd bet the latter." Something in the rubble caught her eye and she paused to pick it up carefully. "Different set up than the last time, definitely. There weren't any explosives involved then." It still left a bad taste in her mouth. At least the team wouldn't be under suspicion this time; none of them had known when the van would be going out. And she'd only been told this morning.

"I've got some plastic bits, here, looks like maybe part of a receiver unit." Frank pointed them out to her and waited while she snapped the pictures. Then she picked them up, regarding them steadily.

"This looks familiar, but I can't place it. I wish Horatio was here, he's the explosives expert." She shook her head and bagged the bits. "We'll see what we find at the lab. Residue on the back seat, might have been an accelerant, but I'm not sure. Another thing for the lab." She finished the car and sat back on her haunches, thinking. "This was too well-planned," she said finally. "Someone detonated this exactly at the moment the van passed it. Did anyone find any shell casings? Reports had shots fired, so where's the evidence? This is looking worse by the minute." Her eyes rolled for a moment as she caught the approaching figure. "Great. Just what I do not need. Hello, Rick."

"Officer involved, Calleigh, I have to be here," Stetler reminded her easily. "And what looks like an inside job. I've talked to the driver. He claims it was a well-run operation, almost militarily precise. Want to fill me in on what you've got?"

"I don't have anything yet," Calleigh returned evenly. "I'll make sure you get copies of the reports. At least this time you're not suspecting us." She couldn't resist the jibe, but tempered it with a smile. "I'll know more once we see the traffic cams and I get a chance to talk to my guys."

"Any news on Horatio?" Stetler asked quietly. She was settling in awfully well as Caine's replacement and he felt another pang of jealousy. At least she had gotten the job fairly. "I know that's been the priority."

"Not a thing, Rick, I'll be sure and let you know when we do. And unfortunately, Horatio has to take a back seat to this. The escort officers are dead, a guard is dead, and the other is on his way to the hospital. And we've got a truckload of weapons missing." It was a cop's nightmare. Stolen and confiscated weapons, due to be destroyed, had been taken and were now back on the streets. It would take months to sort out the mess and that was if they weren't used in another crime between now and then.

"You're preaching to the choir, Calleigh." Stetler held up his hands as if to ward off an attack. "I'll stay out of your way. Let me know what you find." He turned to walk away.

Calleigh nodded to Frank and stepped away from the ruined car as Ryan came up to her. "I'll know more once we haul it in… but it looks like someone used explosives to open the back. There are burn marks around the lock and it's torn to hell."

"Good observation, maybe they left us something we can use. We'll tow all the vehicles in. I want you to go over them with a fine toothed comb. I'm going looking for casings. There couldn't have been time for them to police everything." Her eyes were scanning the scene as she made her way to Eric. "Get anything from the driver?" she asked cautiously.

"It doesn't sound good," Eric replied by way of explanation. "Route was clear, no warnings. They came adjacent to the vehicle and it exploded. Givens says it had to have been planned, the timing was too close. Somebody had to be watching to set it off." He shook his head. "Add to that, he said it was almost military. Not one wasted motion, no voices, all hand signals. In, grabbed the cargo, policed their brass, and ran. Quick, efficient, and not one ID from them either. Masks and gloves."

"Well, they can't have taken everything. I'm going to have another look around, Eric, will you back me up?" Calleigh was trying to help him understand that he was forgiven and that she still trusted him, no matter how badly he had hurt her. "They swooped in, took out the escort, took out the guard, and nearly took out the driver," she began as she paced off the scene. "Sounds well planned, too well planned for your average hit and run operation. They had someone on the inside."

"Sounded that way to me, too." Eric was also eyeing the ground closely. "I got nothing on this side and we're almost on the perimeter. Wait a sec." He knelt beside something and picked it up carefully with gloved fingers. "Got one, Calleigh."

She went to him and took the casing, looking it over carefully. A start of recognition passed through her but she squashed it. It was a popular make of ammunition. "Nine mil Parabellum," she said softly. "Eric, not one word yet. I'll run this and see what we find. But if this was an inside job --- and it looks that way --- there might be a leak. I want to see what we get first." The Parabellum was specific to the Browning Hi-Power, and that looked bad. A lot of officers were still using the Brownings as backups, including Horatio, and she didn't like where her thoughts were headed on this one. He had known the date and the route of the disposal unit, and his Browning was missing from his house. What was going on?

* * *

"Good job, gentlemen, except for one thing." Horatio's voice was clipped with fury. "Now we have to elude the police for an entirely different reason. I thought my orders were quite specific." He pinned them all under that icy glare and had one or two of them actually squirming in their seats. "Dead officers inspire a manhunt. We will have every officer in this city gunning for us by morning if we are identified. Who fired the first shot?"

"Yo, man, you think we should let them shoot _us_? They fired first, after you said they wouldn't." The glare Horatio was receiving in return was fierce, but his was more effective and he knew it when Alejandro began to sweat. "That's why you set off the bomb, man, was to take 'em off-balance, keep 'em from shooting. Didn't work."

"I expected you to defend yourselves, of course. But the order was no killing." Horatio drew his weapon again and sighted down the barrel, looking thoughtful. "I can't keep killing you guys if I want any help at all, now can I?" he mused. "But this isn't a kill shot." It was over in one second, with Alejandro clutching his wounded bicep and screaming. Horatio holstered the gun. "I expect my orders to be obeyed, gentlemen. This operation was a success only because we got what we went after. We have to hope the cleanup was complete or the lab will put it together. And killing police officers is out of the question. Not because they are police, because it focuses attention on the shooting. One less gang banger is old hat to them, low priority. This… this is war."

"Then it's war. This is our city, now, Horatio. It is only a matter of time until we take it." Carlos Pacheco had entered the room behind them. "And you are helping us magnificently. But next time, refrain from shooting any of our own." His dark eyes were filled with anger --- and a grudging respect. "Leave that for me to do. Get him out of here, please." He indicated Alejandro with a sneer. "See that his wound is treated. Horatio, come, we'll talk."

He waited only until they were in the study before coming to the point. "Sit, we'll have a beer. This is quite unusual for me, you know. Most of my enforcers try to kill me to take over. You have made no move in that direction, and yet I think if you were to try, you would not only succeed, you would have help. This troubles me." He leaned forward, gesturing with the bottle. "In the short time you have been here, you have terrorized my people, killed one, wounded another, and in general turned this place upside down. It establishes your intentions, yes. An undercover operative would not do such things; he would be clinging to his ethics. You, it seems, have none left. No conscience, no emotion save your hatred for Riaz. Is this true?"

"It is." Horatio faced him squarely, unafraid. "I won't be taking over, Carlos, and I think you realize that. But you made a promise to me, and I'm still waiting on delivery." He paused for a moment to take a large swallow of the beer. "Riaz."

"Ah, yes, the elusive Antonio Riaz, leader of the Mala Noche. They no longer exist, at least not in Miami. I am sure you know that." Carlos met that even gaze and was glad the hatred in those eyes was not directed at him. "I have… made contacts in Brazil. I will let you know when he is dead." It was actually in Carlos' best interests to keep the man alive. Horatio was barely controllable now. With Riaz dead, that control might be gone. "These things take time."

Horatio smiled unpleasantly. "They do indeed," he said easily. "I won't wait forever, Carlos. But for now --- for now, I'm content. I have everything I need right here." He rose and made his respects to Carlos. "I'll be on the beach." He needed time to think.

He paced for a time, lost in thought, and then just sat in the sand, watching the water. Vickers, Sheffield, Cooke. The names were burned into his heart like a brand, those officers that had gone down this morning. Accidental, if his cohorts were to be believed --- but still dead just the same. And their blood was on his hands.

He had done the unforgivable.

The explosion had been planned meticulously: Just enough to overturn the van, push the radio cars aside with damage and take the uniforms off-balance. But somewhere he had miscalculated. One of the officers had remained steady enough to take a shot at the Nuevas, and that had ended in a bloodbath. He had fired no shot, he had taken no lives… but the fact remained, it was his fault. It had been his responsibility to keep his men under control, and he had failed.

It didn't matter that his men were no better than third rate thugs. It had been his responsibility, so he would take responsibility now. Those deaths were on his hands.

A shadow fell across him, but he didn't look up. Cordero settled to the sand beside him, saying nothing, but still seeming to offer support. They sat in silence for a while, each lost in his own thoughts.

"Hard sometimes, switching sides," Cordero said finally. "Hurts to see somebody you called a friend take a hit."

Horatio nodded. The big man had hit the nail on the head, it seemed. Only how had he known? "Sounds like you've been there."

"Long time ago." They fell into silence again, each accepting the other's support and comfort. Finally Cordero rose and gave Horatio a pat on the shoulder. "Don't stay out here too long. Not safe out here by yourself, somebody might decide you're target practice."

Horatio rose as well, falling in step with the Latino easily. 'Dero was right. It wouldn't do to get himself killed. He had a lot still to think over.

(TBC)


	9. Chapter 9

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. Likewise for Melissa… you have been a blessed saint for listening to my rants of late. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Nine**

Calleigh regarded the casing on her open palm with unease. It was an unexpended round; unfired, but the workings had been removed. Only the outer shell remained. Had it been left accidentally, or was it deliberate? Only one way to find out.

She processed it carefully, swabbing for epithelials, lifting a clear print and sending it up to the Print lab. Then she slipped it under the scope for a better look.

Since the round was unfired, there were no striations to match. Nothing to indicate whose gun it had been in, if it had been in one at all. No, it hadn't been in a magazine. Pristine condition, looked like right out of the box. Curious.

Well, she could profitably go help her guys in the garage. There were four vehicles to process, they'd be grateful for another hand. She headed that direction, but Valera stopped her before she'd gone far.

"I wanted to hand deliver this, Calleigh," she said softly. "It's… sensitive." She handed over the sheet with a guarded expression.

Calleigh glanced at it, and then took a closer look. "How many times did you run the sample?" she demanded.

"Three. I even ran the controls." Valera chewed on her lower lip, obviously disturbed. "It's bad, I know."

"I'll take it from here, Valera," Calleigh said reassuringly. Her thoughts were whirling madly in her head as she began toward the Print lab. She wanted confirmation before she talked to her guys. Unfortunately, that was exactly what she got.

She paused in the hallway, thinking. She couldn't refuse to believe what the evidence was clearly showing her; but the need to deny was there just the same. It was unthinkable that Horatio would turn that way. There had to be an explanation for his presence at the scene.

She groaned when her pager beeped a message. What now? She ducked into the AV lab. "Cooper? Got your 911, what's up?"

"I ran the footage from the traffic cams, Calleigh, and you're not gonna like it," he replied as he swiveled to face her.

Calleigh then noticed he'd closed up the lab as much as possible for maximum privacy and a shiver of dread ran through her again. "Show me," she said simply.

She watched the footage twice before turning back to Cooper, her expression carefully schooled. "Cooper, please keep this to yourself for now. I want to see what Eric and Ryan have, and I want them to see this. I don't think I have to tell you why it's going to cause an uproar."

Cooper nodded, wide-eyed. The image was clear, too clear for any mistake to be made, but he would do as she requested. "I don't know how long I can give you," he said slowly. "IAB's already been here."

"I'll take care of Rick Stetler, hon, you just keep that quiet for a few minutes." Calleigh was moving fast, paging the guys, trying to get them out of the garage. It didn't take them long to answer, either. A 911 page tended to get an instant response.

She caught them at the door, hoping to head off what she now had to consider as evidence. "It's bad, guys, what have you got so far?"

Eric glanced over at Ryan, who shrugged and offered a "You, first" gesture.

Eric shook his head. "Bad. Givens said the attackers all wore gloves and masks, right? I've got prints all over the back door of the transport van." He looked stunned. "They're H's."

"I've got more of his prints on the bomb car," Ryan said uneasily. "And on pieces of the detonator. Calleigh, what's going on?"

Calleigh sighed heavily and ushered them inside, watching their faces for their reactions to the image frozen on the screen. Eric stopped, frozen, and Ryan had to lean against the wall as though faint. "It hit me the same way, and I had some warning," she said softly.

Eric shook his head. "If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe it," he said slowly. "Wait wait wait. Look here. He just placed the explosive, right? So why turn his face toward the camera? Calleigh, he wanted us to see him."

"Just like he left all those prints for us to find. He's way to careful to get caught out that way." Ryan's voice was firm, though his eyes betrayed his rising hope. "Think about it, Calleigh. Everyone else was wearing gloves and masks, and Horatio didn't? No way."

"Guys, guys!" Calleigh had to put a stop to it, as hopeful as it sounded. "We've got a lot of speculation and nothing to back it up. We do not speculate. And we're working against the clock, now. When this gets out --- and it will --- every uniform in Miami will be on the warpath. If he's trying to tell us something, we'd better find it fast."

* * *

Horatio gave each one of his hand-picked men an icy look. "Gentlemen, we go in, we get what we need, we get out. We do not kill anyone without cause. If we do this right, there will be no shots fired, no evidence left behind. Is everyone clear on this?"

He waited for acknowledgement from each of them before waving them out of the van. "We have two minutes, guys, move it!"

They burst into the gun shop, quickly taking control and herding the two clerks into a huddle by the far wall. Horatio scanned the shop for surprises while holding the Browning firmly on them. The others began rapidly shifting weapons out to the van. "Don't waste your time with the handguns," Horatio reminded them. "High-powered rifles only, no shotguns. Ninety seconds." His attention went back to the clerks. "Do what you're told and no one gets hurt. Don't move, don't speak, just stay put for the next five minutes." Sirens whooped in the distance, growing closer, and he swore softly. "Time's up, guys, let's go, wrap it up!" As one they left the shop, piling the weapons into the back of the van haphazardly and leaping in behind. "Go!"

Horatio took out a small box and dropped it onto the street, gauging carefully. The patrol unit had to be within a certain distance… there. He thumbed the switch on the remote in his other hand and there was a sizable explosion. The lead unit swerved sideways, coming to rest against a parked vehicle with a satisfying crunch, and the other maneuvered around. He dropped another box, reset the detonator frequency, and set it off.

The second unit wasn't quite so lucky. It was almost on the bomb when it exploded and as a result, the car not only was propelled off-course, it was sent sliding on its side for several feet before coming to rest.

Horatio nodded with satisfaction and pulled the door closed behind him. Pursuit had been eliminated. "Head for home, guys, and take the back streets. Less chance of another unit picking us up there."

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. Likewise for Melissa… you have been a blessed saint for listening to my rants of late. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Ten**

"You have got to be kidding me." Calleigh stepped out of the Hummer with a groan. "This place looks like a war zone, Frank, what happened? Armed robbery doesn't usually leave car parts all over the street."

"Yeah, well, armed robbery with a twist." Frank's face was seamed with angry lines. "No shots fired, no one hurt, not even a bruise. Add in the surveillance video and the eyewitnesses and we've got a solid ID at least on the leader." He looked like he had swallowed something sour as he handed over the description and one of the stills already taken from the camera.

Calleigh took them with a nod and her face hardened perceptibly. "There's no way we can keep this under wraps, not now," she said slowly. "Guys!" she called to Eric and Ryan. "We need to pay extra attention to Trace evidence. If Horatio is trying to tell us something, he'll have left another clue." She turned back to Frank. "It may not be what it seems, Frank," she said softly. "Horatio set the explosives at the Dispo hit this morning; we've got proof. We've also got his fingerprints all over the van. You and I both know he's too good to leave evidence unless that's what he intends to do." She kept her voice low --- she had seen Rick arrive. "He also left us a casing, stripped and unfired, with a clear print. He's trying to tell us something."

"Yeah, well, you better find it fast, Calleigh, that's all I got to say. These guys are busy loadin' for bear." He indicated the uniforms with a nod of his head. "Find it quick, because he just started a war." He stalked off to avoid Stetler who was moving to intercept them.

"Calleigh," Rick greeted her as she turned to face him. "I need an update." His expression told her it wasn't a request.

"The investigation is ongoing, Rick, I can't give you any new information yet," Calleigh replied with a headshake. "I'll let you know when I can."

He drew her aside. "I'm trying to help you," he said simply. "Word's already come down to oversee your team's movements. The brass thinks that if one's crossed the line, the rest might." He held her gaze for a moment. "Give me something to tell them, to take the heat off of you. Anything."

She regarded him steadily, judging his sincerity, and then nodded. "I appreciate that, Rick, I really do. I just don't have anything to tell you yet." She turned to head inside and he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Then how about I tell you. Horatio has crossed the line, Calleigh, and IAB thinks you guys are helping him." His expression was intense. "Don't let him take you down with him. Give me something I can use. I know he was here, I know he was running the operation. Give me something to prove you're not helping him."

"If I could, I would." Calleigh didn't hesitate. "Let it go. I can't tell you what I don't know. Was Horatio at the scene this morning? Yes. Was he here now? Yes. Anything else would be pure speculation on my part, and I do not speculate. I collect the evidence, I analyze the evidence, and then I pass along those findings." She gave him a veiled glance, assessing him again. "There's something you're not telling me, Rick," she said slowly after a long pause. "If you've got information relating to this investigation, I need to know it." She softened her voice slightly. "If someone is tipping off IAB, then it's possible that someone knows exactly what Horatio is up to. Tell me what you know, and maybe we can work something out."

"I don't know anything." Rick held up his hands when she started to protest. "IAB got an anonymous tip earlier, told us to look closer at Horatio. And the higher-ups think that means your team, too."

Calleigh blinked. "That's quite an incentive to look at Horatio, but why us?" she murmured. "Because we're so close to him. That's what makes us the best to investigate this." She held his eyes once more. "We know him the way no one else does. If he's leaving clues, we'll find them where no one else would. Let me clear this scene, Rick, and we'll talk." It had already become painfully evident that things weren't as they seemed. Horatio was simply too skilled to leave evidence the way he had, and Rick Stetler knew it. Calleigh wasn't above using what he knew to further her own investigation. "I'll page you. Right now, the evidence is waiting."

* * *

Eric glanced over at Ryan with concern in his big dark eyes. "This isn't right," he said softly as he tweezed up a piece of what appeared to be the explosive device. "H going after cops, it doesn't wash. It doesn't fit."

Ryan glanced around where he was working. "No, it doesn't. I don't care how bad he's gone --- if he has --- you're right, it doesn't fit. And neither does this." He held up a casing. "Same as what you found this morning, I think. Only… didn't Calleigh say that one was right out of the box, no guts? This one's got the charge still in it." He bagged it carefully.

Eric nodded. "Come on, Wolfe," he chided. "You saw the tape, you worked that scene. H is too damned good at his job to have left evidence he didn't intend us to find."

"You're the one who said he was getting weird after Park talked to him. That he was just… I think you said there wasn't anything left of him in his eyes." Ryan swiveled to face Eric, his own face carefully shuttered. "What changed your mind?"

Eric just kept working. "A little thought and a lot of calming down." He tweezed up another piece of plastic and regarded it steadily, then bagged it. "H is intense, sometimes scary intense. When they blocked our visas --- I thought he was going to go postal right there in the airport. Then he just got really, really quiet and told me to go home and wait. I remember thinking I was glad he wasn't giving me that look." He found another speck and bagged it, too. "He disappeared the next morning. I thought maybe he'd found a way to go to Brazil without me. I was beyond pissed, man."

Ryan ran his trained eye over his quadrant of the street. "You missed a spot," he said with half a smile as he picked it up and bagged it. "You still haven't said what changed your mind."

"Once I calmed down, I had time to think. And then I saw that tape. He knew we'd be processing, Wolfe. We're his team. He made sure we'd know he was at the scene even without the prints." Eric shook his head. "It's confusing, even to me. But I saw that, and I knew. I knew he was leaving us hints. He's too damned good a CSI to leave anything he doesn't want to."

Ryan nodded. "That's what I thought, too. And the clerks here said he was going out of his way to make sure nobody got hurt." Another piece of plastic, another bag; he thought they were getting quite a pile of the stuff. "Another thing I noticed. These explosives, they weren't high end. And they didn't pack too much of a kick, just enough to knock the cruisers off-course. Neither of the uniforms was seriously hurt."

"Yeah, I got that too. Clerks said they were only after the rifles, high-powered sniper weapons." Eric looked thoughtful as he looked something over carefully. "Hey, I got a piece of what looks like the detonator, here," he said as he picked it up carefully with gloved fingers. "Receiver of some kind. I'll run it at the lab, see if I can get a make on it. There's part of a serial number on what's left of it."

"Uh, Eric?" Ryan was watching the uniforms at the shop. They were milling about, obviously angry, and were taking on the aspect of a lynch mob. "I don't think they're going to wait for official word before trying to hunt Horatio down. We're running out of time."

* * *

Horatio tipped his beer in salute. "Well done," he said simply. The other men returned his gaze evenly; even Alejandro was silent. "No death, no shots fired… and the police have no idea where to find us. We've got the guns… now we train."

He saluted them again and stepped away, leaving them to party while he went elsewhere. He needed time to think. To brood. The Dispo driver, Givens, had died while they were at the gun shop. Another death on his hands.

He paced along the balcony overlooking the pool area, surreptitiously watching the Nuevas. Raucous, rowdy; not at all his speed. He preferred it quiet. So he leaned on the banister, content to observe rather than participate. Alone once more. Alone with his thoughts… and his guilt.

Guilt about the blood on his hands, guilt about what he had become. Guilt at putting his team through hell; he knew they would be devastated by what they had found, evidence that only confirmed his guilt.

Marisol's face danced before him and he closed his eyes against the pain. She had understood him perhaps better than anyone, even in the brief time they'd been together. She had understood their marriage hadn't been for love of her. It had been an attempt to bring some joy back to her life, at giving her a chance for a normal life… and to bring the same joy back to Eric.

Eric. When Marisol had been diagnosed with the cancer, it hit him hard. He'd stood by his sister through everything, had helped her to get what she needed, even when it wasn't quite legal. He had been overjoyed when she went into remission; and pissed as hell when Horatio had announced his intentions to marry her.

Horatio still wasn't quite certain what had brought it on, but Eric hadn't spoken to him for several days. He'd thought at first it was simple shock at the suddenness of the decision --- but he had quickly realized that the silence held anger. A lot of anger. More than could be explained by the simple fact of the engagement, he thought. But when Eric refused to attend the wedding, it had come to a head.

Horatio had left him alone, reasoning that Eric would make his own choices and live with the consequences. Others had intervened… and Eric had given up the fight with good grace, not only attending the wedding but having the courage to wish them well. But still, there had been something bothering the man; Horatio's trained eye had seen it, and he had said nothing.

He had said nothing, and Marisol had been killed. He had watched the light go from Eric's eyes, had watched harsh reality set in, had watched as rage overtook the Eric he knew… and in that moment, he realized what he had known all along. He hadn't done anything for Marisol's sake.

It had been for Eric.

Just as all this had been done to protect Eric. He had seen the hate in the other man's eyes, had seen in him the willingness to cross the line, just as he had been. And he had vowed to himself that he would not, would not, be responsible for the damage such a thing would have done to Eric's nature. Eric simply wasn't a killer, and Horatio wouldn't allow him to become one. He had lost sight of that for a few moments --- but when it came down to it, he hadn't been able to carry through. He had been furious when the visas had been blocked, until it occurred to him that it was a way to protect Eric.

So he had made the deal.

Noise from the party interrupted his thoughts and he brought himself back to the present. Eric was lost to him now, as were the others. There could be no forgiveness for his actions, no redemption for his sins. He would see this through to the end.

And with the decision reached, he went to his room and lay down on the bed… but it was a long time before he slept.

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. Likewise for Melissa… you have been a blessed saint for listening to my rants of late. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Eleven**

Calleigh read the reports and put them down, cradling her head in her hands for a moment.

Now they had a body.

She had been in the lab all night, but that wasn't the problem. She had a DB in Alexx's hands that apparently had been shot with Horatio's Browning. The bullet was intact enough for identification, and it matched perfectly.

That hadn't been the cause of death, though. COD had been blunt force trauma to the skull. Which in itself didn't make sense, although the bullet wound hadn't been fatal. Upper left quadrant, not a kill shot. And the wound track had been odd, too. A nine millimeter should have punched clean through, and yet it had lodged in the back part of the shoulder.

It would have taken either a whole lot of luck or an expert marksman to have made such a shot. And she didn't believe in luck, not on that scale. Horatio hadn't intended to kill the man, which meant someone else had been involved. Could have been anyone; they might have a better idea of what had happened once the victim had been identified, and that could take a while. They'd fished him out of one of the canals, and that always made identification more difficult.

She put Alexx's report down and reached for Aaron's. Maybe things would start making sense if she was able to put them together --- but she couldn't help but wonder if she had all the pieces.

Star Island. The sand in question had come from Star Island. That put a new spin on things, certainly. And Eric was at the door with Ryan in tow. Apparently they hadn't gone home, either.

Eric laid the bit of receiver on the desk between them, safe in its evidence bag. "Tracked it down. You won't like it." He took a deep breath. "Same kind of receiver the Bomb Squad uses for remote detonation. Serial number matches to one of those stolen last fall by the Mala Noche."

"Mala Noche? The body we have downstairs is a Solara Nueva." Calleigh was trying to fit the pieces together already, but it wouldn't quite gel.

"And check this out. Casing from the Dispo scene, casing from Moncero's Gun shop." Ryan handed them both to her. "You were busy," he said with a shrug. "First one is completely stripped, just like you said. This one has the primer, but no bullet. It's a pattern."

"Which means the next one would be a full cartridge." Calleigh gave them a shrewd look. "Okay, we've got it down to Horatio leaving us evidence. Pointing to what? Stolen receivers, stolen long range weapons… enough to start a small war." She shook her head. "We're missing something."

Eric ducked his head and Ryan looked out into the hallway for a moment before speaking. "Um, we think we've got that figured, too. Our vic? Only a member of the Noche's worst rivals. If Horatio shot him --- and it looks like it, I know --- if Horatio pulled the trigger, he wasn't aiming to kill. It was meant to scare him."

"And we've got another ID from the clerks at Moncero's," Eric chimed in as he laid the file on the desk as well. "Enriquez Vasquez. Confirmed member in good standing of the Solaras Nuevas. H is with them."

"Back up a sec." Everything was falling into place very neatly, now. "The Nuevas are stealing weapons, and Horatio is helping them? What's wrong with this picture?" Calleigh couldn't believe it… but the evidence couldn't lie. "Could he be trying to warn us about a gang war? There's been no clear uprising after the Noches were cleared out. Could the Nuevas be planning a takeover?"

"Looks like it. We just don't know where they're planning to hit." Ryan dropped one more memo on the desk. "Yours probably got buried. Order of the day, right from the top, vests are part of the uniform, we go nowhere without them. Seems they're thinking there's a gang war on the horizon, too."

Calleigh nodded. "Get your vests. As soon as we get a location on our suspect, we'll move."

* * *

Midmorning saw them in Interrogation with Vasquez. He'd been picked up on a routine traffic stop, and the warrant had allowed them to hold him for questioning. Calleigh was leading off, though Frank was lending his rather intimidating presence and she was grateful for it.

"You're one of the Solaras Nuevas, Enriquez," she began without preamble. "Which makes you a hot suspect in a lot of cases. Why don't you do yourself a favor and answer our questions? If you cooperate, we might be able to get you a deal."

"You can't pin anything on me or we wouldn't be talking, chica," Enriquez rallied. "But I can think of a few ways we could… cooperate."

"Watch your mouth, smart guy." Tripp was fuming. "We got you cold for armed robbery, concealed weapons, use of explosives, and just in general being a wiseass. Do yourself a favor and don't piss off the gal who's trying to help you, deal?"

"No deals. Ask your questions, I ain't sayin' nothing.'" Vasquez made a show of sitting back in the chair and putting his feet up on the table.

Frank got right up in his face, almost forcing the chair over backward but not touching the other man. "Well, you just make yourself at home there, Beavis, cause you ain't leavin' any time soon." He bipped the kid in the kneecap, hard. "Get your feet off my table, too. Pay attention to the lady, cause this is the only chance you get."

Calleigh tapped the folder on the table between them. "What's up with the weapons, Enriquez?" she asked conversationally. "You guys knocked over the Dispo van, you robbed a gun shop… and all you took were high end long range weapons. Want to tell me why?"

Enriquez only stared at her and licked his lips suggestively. Frank got in his space again, his expression hard. "Listen, tough guy, you're already on thin ice. You're connected with the murder of four police officers. You think that's gonna help you in lockup? Let me tell you what'll happen in there." His voice was laced with steel. "You may go in like a hero, but you'll come out in a bag. Guards don't take it kindly when one of our own goes down. The cons'll eat you for breakfast for making their lives hell. And let's not forget what happens to a snitch in the tank, either. You're just a little fish in a big pond, Enriquez, so do yourself a favor and cooperate. Might save your life."

"I ain't no snitch, man." Enriquez was livid at the thought. "I help you, then I'm a snitch. No way."

"If you don't help us, Enriquez, then we can't protect you." Calleigh kept her voice even. "If you answer our questions, on the other hand, we can see to it that you stay far, far away from the Nuevas. It's your choice."

She kept her eyes on him for several seconds before he nodded in defeat. "Whaddaya want to know, anyway? I got nothin' you could use."

"Now, see, that wasn't so hard!" Calleigh said with a bright smile. "Tell me about the guns." She listened carefully, searching for signs of deceit, and found none. She heard what he had to say and smiled grimly. Everything was leading back to Star Island.

"One last question." She pulled a picture from the file and placed it on the table between them. "Who is this guy, and how is he connected to the Nuevas?"

"You don't know your own boss, lady? Makes you look bad, that he'd go over like that, huh? Just like his brother. He's dirty as they come." Enriquez laughed heartily. "He comes in, says 'We do it this way, they won't catch us,' and damned if he ain't right. You're chasing your tails trying to find him and he don't want to be found, get it? He's one of us, now. Don't that just frost your cake?"

"Frank, get him out of here." Calleigh's words were calm and composed, but inwardly she was reeling. It just wasn't possible that Horatio had gone bad. He'd intentionally left them evidence, intentionally placed himself where he would be recognized. There had to be a reason.

Frank came back quickly. "You get enough for a warrant?"

"And then some. We go in looking for the guns; if we happen to find Horatio, then maybe he can explain all of this to us."

"Yeah, if he isn't busy trying to put holes in us." Frank looked uncomfortable. "Just how sure are you that he hasn't crossed the line, Calleigh? He's my friend, too, but the Horatio I know wouldn't be shooting people, and he wouldn't be party to something that got cops killed. Now if you know somethin' I don't, you better tell me. I need some good news right about now. Guys upstairs are just waitin' to put out the word on him."

Calleigh sighed heavily before closing the door firmly. "I don't have any hard evidence of what he's doing, Frank, I wish to God I did. I'm as confused as you are. But I know Horatio. I know he has deliberately left us evidence. I know he's trying to tell us something, that things can't be as they seem. I know that. I just can't explain how."

Frank watched her for a full minute before nodding. "Your call, then. I'll get the warrant, meet you at the scene."

* * *

Horatio was by the pool when the alarm came down. The estate was being searched. "Get everything together, you know the plan. Cordero, make certain Carlos is safe. I'll meet you at the boat. Ten minutes, no more, and you leave. Without me if necessary."

Cordero nodded and went in search of Carlos, and Horatio went into motion as well. Through the house, one room at a time, making certain everyone was headed out; it would be harder for the police to track them if everyone was going in different directions.

He was working his way stealthily through the garage when his luck ran out. "Miami-Dade PD! Drop your weapon and turn around!"

Eric. Of all the rotten luck… "Eric, you do not want to do this," Horatio said firmly as he turned to face the other man.

"The only thing I want to hear from you, H, is what the hell happened to you." Eric's weapon never wavered. "Why?"

"Eric, you need to listen to me," Horatio replied calmly. He kept his hands were Eric could see them; but he edged a bit closer. "Listen carefully. I left you evidence, I left you clues. Use them." He got within grabbing range; Eric was still positioned to shoot, but he was hesitating. Horatio silently thanked whoever was listening that he'd been the one to draw Eric's attention; anyone else would have killed him by now. Of course, the fact that it was Horatio had something to do with the hesitation, he was certain. "Eric, you have to let me go. No one's the wiser. Just turn away for ten seconds."

"I can't do that, H. I can't." Eric was fighting every instinct he had, which was to do as Horatio had asked him. He couldn't. That wasn't how the job worked. "You know the drill, H. Hands on your head, slowly."

"I can't do that," Horatio said quietly. There was real sorrow in his eyes. He reached up, slowly, to touch Eric's face. "Eric, listen to me. You have to let me go. I can't explain any further. Just turn away."

Eric lowered his weapon, confusion written large on his face. Horatio had never touched him, not like this. "H, I…" He was going to do it. He was going to let Horatio go. The decision had been made the moment he felt that touch on his face. There had to be a reason he was doing this now. H had never lied to him before. "If you're going, you better make it look good," he said softly.

Horatio couldn't afford to let himself be distracted any longer. He stepped back and started to walk away, but he heard the sounds outside, coming closer. He sped up.

"H. Shoot me."

Horatio spun to face Eric, his eyes betraying his shock at the suggestion.

"You have to shoot me. Covers us both. Makes you look good to the Nuevas, covers my ass with Calleigh. Do it. Come on, before someone comes in, H, someone's coming!"

Horatio raised his weapon, then lowered it slowly. "Eric…" He couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger.

"H, do it!"

More people were approaching, he could hear them. He raised the weapon again and sighted down the barrel. "I'm sorry, Eric."

The shot was fired just as Calleigh burst through the doorway, followed by Tripp. He was gone before they could bring their own weapons to bear, his heart bleeding from this betrayal. But he made good on the opportunity Eric had given him and fled to the dock, climbed aboard the jet boat, and they made their escape.

**TBC…**


	12. Chapter 12

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and its finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Twelve**

Calleigh saw Eric go down and nearly panicked; only her training let her keep her head. "Frank! Out the door!" She knelt beside Eric, her heart in her throat. Had the vest caught it? Her radio was in her hand. "This is CSI Duquesne, I've got a man down, shots fired!" Her other hand was checking the vest. "Eric? Eric, come on, open those big brown eyes, handsome." Blood on his shoulder, not a good sign.

Frank came back in, shaking his head angrily. "Escape craft at the dock, I've got the Coast Guard looking for it. How's Eric?" He was furious. Horatio had better not show his face again, or Frank would shoot it off. How could he have done this? It defied belief.

"I'm fine," Eric said groggily as he started to sit up. Calleigh pushed him back flat and he groaned. "Easy, Calleigh, huh? The vest caught it. No blood. I'm okay." He felt around his chest gingerly. "Except like feeling like I was kicked by a mule."

Calleigh thumped him in the shoulder. "Don't do that to me, Eric, I thought… he shot you! Horatio shot you! He could have killed you!"

"He didn't." Eric gave a glance up at Frank and decided he'd better shut up before they really got pissed at him. He'd explain to Calleigh later. "I'm wearing a vest, Calleigh, I'm okay."

"No, Eric, you're not." Calleigh held up a bloodstained hand. "Must have caught you on the way down. If you hadn't already been moving, it would have taken your head off. As it is, it's just a crease… but bad enough to send you to the hospital. Go get checked out, we'll manage here."

Eric saw the blood and paled slightly. A second shot --- but H had only fired once. He had to make her understand that. "Calleigh, he only shot once. One time. One shot."

"We'll process while you get looked at." Calleigh wasn't taking no for an answer. "If there was more than one shooter, we'll know. Give me your vest." She helped him take it off. "You're sure Horatio only fired once?"

Eric looked up at Frank as Rescue finally hit the scene. "Frank, take a walk, huh? You standing there glaring at me isn't helping a whole lot." He caught Calleigh's eye while Frank walked away shaking his head. "I'm sure, Calleigh. One shot, to the chest. Wherever that other shot came from, it wasn't H's gun." He bit his lip against the rest of what he wanted to say. It wasn't the time, or the place, and he wasn't sure he ever wanted to discuss it with anyone else. He had been totally floored by that one simple touch. He would have done anything to have it continue. Had H counted on that? He thought not… it had seemed too spontaneous, too unplanned. Too --- intimate.

Calleigh handed Eric off to Rescue and got to work. If she eyeballed the trajectory, Eric was right. The second shot had come from outside the garage, off to the right. Horatio had been bearing left when he took off, he couldn't have fired it. Someone else had been there. And there was the bullet, right where it should be.

She tweezed it out carefully and took a good look. No, it wasn't from the Browning, that much was certain. The bullet was a nine mil, but not a Parabellum. Horatio could have switched the ammunition, she supposed, but she doubted it. And this bullet didn't match the one she had prized out of Eric's vest. She'd verify it in the lab, of course. Everything had to be double-checked.

She looked up from the floor when she heard someone come in, her hand automatically coming to rest on her weapon until she recognized Rick Stetler. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that, Rick, it's a good way to get shot," she chided him gently.

"Best way to find out what's going on," he returned easily. "I've talked to Delko, Calleigh, I'd like to hear your version please." It wasn't a request. "Did Horatio really shoot him?"

Calleigh raised her eyes to the heavens before answering and took several deep breaths. "Yes, Horatio shot Eric. The vest caught it; he's not hurt. Not from that shot, at least." She showed him the second bullet. "Second shooter creased his arm. He's still not badly hurt, but I sent him in to get checked out."

"Yeah, he mentioned a second shooter, too. Calleigh, I have to tell you, this sounds rehearsed." Rick didn't like where his thoughts were heading, but they were Caine's team and he automatically suspected them. "Anyone else in here with you when this went down?"

"Frank Tripp," Calleigh snapped. "But if you don't believe us, you won't believe him either. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got evidence to process and you're standing in my crime scene."

* * *

Horatio looked out over the water from the yacht, brooding. The sea usually brought him peace, but there was no peace to be found tonight. 

He had shot Eric. He had shot Eric. His mind wouldn't turn loose of the thought.

There would be no forgiveness for that, not even from Eric himself. Granted, Eric had pushed him into it, had offered the suggestion as a way for both of them to escape the situation… but being shot was definitely an eye-opener. At least he had been wearing a vest.

That had been one of the first things Horatio had noticed. The extra bulk wouldn't have stood out if he hadn't been looking for it. Apparently, someone at MDPD was paying attention. That was to the good.

His thoughts kept coming back to Eric. Why had he done such a thing? Surely there had been another way. And that one touch… it had been his undoing. He could never have refused Eric anything to start with, and now --- now it was too late. He had to wonder if the other man would ever truly know what Horatio had done for his sake. At the moment, chances looked slim.

Cordero came to rest his arms on the railing beside Horatio and said nothing, offering his support without a word. The two passed a time in companionable quiet, neither offering words the other wouldn't want to hear. "I took care of him for you, since your shot didn't do it," Cordero finally said softly. "Can't have you lookin' bad in front of Senor Pacheco."

Horatio turned to regard him, horror rising in his eyes. "You --- did what?" he asked, his voice lowering dangerously.

"Took him out." There was no hesitation to Cordero's voice. "He was wearing a vest. Your shot didn't kill him. Mine did. Head shot." He kept his eyes on the water, letting Horatio absorb the news. "That's what I'm here for. I got your back."

Horatio felt something die inside him at the revelation. Despair flooded through him, but he was careful to show nothing of his emotions to the big man. "I'm glad you have my back, Cordero, but if you ever second-guess me like that again, I'll kill you myself," he said evenly.

Something of his fury must have communicated itself to Cordero anyway. He nodded, his own expression hooded. "Got it. I'm just protecting your ass, though. Carlos won't trust you if you keep leaving witnesses alive." He shrugged. "I'd like to keep you alive for a while, okay?"

"You let me handle the boss," Horatio returned quietly. Something wasn't quite right here; but he couldn't put his finger on it. Silence returned for several moments until he decided that the simplest answer would be to just ask. "Why keep me alive, 'Dero? If I weren't around, you'd be in charge."

Cordero caught Horatio's eye and held it. "Don't you know?" he asked softly. One hand strayed upward and came to rest against Horatio's cheek, rubbing lightly. Then he dropped his hand and turned away to go below decks, leaving Horatio to wonder exactly when this had developed.

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Thirteen**

Eric sat in the ER, patiently waiting his turn, though it seemed they were taking their sweet time getting to him. Of course, his injury wasn't life-threatening, so he really should be more tolerant.

And of course, the delay gave him time to think. Think about what had happened on Star Island, think about Horatio, think about that touch. Think about whether or not Horatio had meant that touch the way it seemed. Think about his sister's husband in ways that most certainly weren't brotherly.

Who had the second shooter been? Horatio had only fired once. Someone else had been there, someone he hadn't seen. He took refuge in the professional questions; it was far safer than dwelling where his mind wanted to go. He wasn't quite ready yet to admit he actually had more than a passing attraction to his boss.

His mind kept coming back to it, though. It wouldn't let him stay away very long. Just when had he decided Horatio was who he wanted? He'd been with men, of course, but he'd never been so overwhelmingly drawn to any of them. Why Horatio? Why now?

He groaned and tried again to haul his wayward thoughts back into line, but it was no use. He couldn't get the memory of that touch out of his head. It had been so… intimate was the only word that seemed to fit, but it wasn't quite right. One touch, and his rational mind had gone to lunch. All he'd wanted was for it to continue.

Had H meant it the way it felt? Was he attracted to Eric the same way? It seemed more than likely; the emotion behind those blue eyes had been too intense to be anything but real. The question was, how to do anything about it? Horatio was firmly on the wrong side of this war… but Eric didn't really believe that. What had H said? "I left you evidence, I left you clues. Use them." What had they missed?

The evidence. All the evidence pointed to a war on the horizon, but between who? The police and the Nuevas? The Nuevas and whichever gangs were left? He couldn't make sense of it. Everything was all muddled in his head and his shoulder was starting to ache abominably.

The ER nurse chose that moment to appear, all smiles and apologies for keeping him waiting, and he let her do what she needed to, still trying to chase down whatever it was they'd missed.

* * *

Calleigh regarded Rick Stetler with a raised eyebrow. "You think what?" she asked, incredulous. "That's odd, coming from you. I thought you were determined to take him down."

"I was, at first." Stetler was annoyed, but he'd see this through. He wanted to prove he was a better man than they thought him, and this would be the way to do it. "But things aren't adding up. Horatio has been very careless about leaving evidence, and that isn't right. I've seen your reports, Calleigh. He's trying to tell you something."

Calleigh watched him intently for several minutes, assessing his sincerity. Finally she nodded. "Time to pool our resources, then. If I tell you what we have, you have to spill what you know."

"Fair enough. First thing that's wrong about this: Horatio would never be a party to something that got officers killed. From all the accounts at the Dispo hit, everything was going smooth until one of our officers took a shot. Everything seemed to have been planned to minimize loss of life, including that explosion."

Calleigh nodded and hauled out the file. "You're right. Use of a remote detonator, but the bang was set off by a watcher. And the explosive used was low end, common, just enough to send the radio cars off-course, not to cause any major injury. Accelerant on the back seat to make the fire look worse than it was… again, common. Gasoline."

"And Horatio featuring prominently on the traffic cams." Rick leaned back against the desk with a smile for her startled expression. "Did you really think you could keep it a secret? Especially after the gun shop." He crossed his legs at the ankles and folded his arms. "Okay, you've got my attention. I told you what I thought. Convince me I'm not wrong."

"You're not wrong. Have a look." She handed him the file. "That's everything; and you're right, he's trying to tell us something."

Rick scanned the file quickly. "Most of this I already knew from one source or another. What's this about the casings, though?" He indicated her remarks on the find.

"At each scene, Horatio has left an unused, altered casing from his ammunition. The first one had nothing, just the shell; the next one, the casing and the primer. I can't help but think it's a signal of escalation, but I can't think of what. The Nuevas have been stealing guns, high powered long range weapons, but we have no clue what for yet. I was hoping you might have some idea." Calleigh shook her head in frustration.

"Well, since we're sharing information," Rick said slowly. "IAB has been told to watch you and your team, no surprise there. I thought that it was because of Horatio; but now I'm not so sure. Or rather, I'm sure it's because of Horatio but not because he's switched sides. I think he's a plant, and that's how we got into this discussion in the first place. Things just don't add up when you consider the man's character. Horatio would never allow harm to come to a fellow officer, no matter the provocation. And he would never be so careless as to leave evidence if he didn't want it to be found."

"I agree. What we need to figure out is why the Nuevas want the guns." Calleigh gave a heavy sigh. "So, now that you're firmly on our side, or at least putting up a good show of it, what next? Does your information have anything to add?" She gave him a wide smile to let him know she was teasing him.

"Very little, I'm afraid. No, what I've got is a few tips from a source I can't reveal yet." Rick rose and paced a bit. "If I tell you anything, it can't go into the official reports, Calleigh. I won't compromise my source that way. But it'll at least ease your mind a bit, I hope." He waited for a response, but all he got was a raised eyebrow so he took it for assent. "One reason we've been told to ride herd on you guys, and to look at Horatio, is that the CIA is blocking investigations into the Nuevas' dealings. All investigations. They're hoping I can impede your progress enough to keep you from making arrests and screwing up whatever they have in the works."

"Well, that's helpful, anyway," Calleigh mused. "At least we know why we're not going anywhere. But that doesn't explain your theory, and it doesn't explain why we were able to get the warrant on the Star Island property. Or why Horatio would shoot Eric!" There it was, the one thing that didn't support Rick's theory that Horatio was somehow undercover. Why would he shoot Eric?

"You were able to get the warrant because I talked to my contact," Rick replied, the muscles in his jaw clenching a bit. "As for the shooting… Horatio would have known Eric was wearing a vest, even under his clothes. The man's too damned observant to miss something like that. And you said they were alone for who knows how long before you and Tripp came in. Maybe the two of them worked it out? It certainly would help Horatio's credibility with the Nuevas if he took out someone he knew personally." He gave her a level gaze.

"That still doesn't explain the second shooter, though. That was intended to take him out permanently, Rick." She showed him the workup she'd done on the trajectories. "Horatio would know that the Browning wouldn't punch through the vest. You might be right about him. But the second shooter was aiming for a head shot. If Eric hadn't already been moving, it would have got him between the eyes. As it was, it only creased the top of his shoulder, thank God." She was still a little shaky on the inside at the thought of how close it had been.

"Maybe the second shooter was watching Horatio's back." Rick considered the situation for a moment. "Although that doesn't make any sense. Gang bangers aren't that loyal, as a rule."

"See, that's what I've been working against. And if you want Eric to tell the truth about what happened in that garage, you'd better take me with you. And you'd better be willing to keep it out of your report, too. He doesn't exactly trust you." Calleigh gave him a shrewd glance. "I'm not completely certain I do, yet, but you've made a good start today." She got up and locked the files in the drawer. "Everything you've said can be easily checked, though, so I doubt you're lying to me. If it turns out you're right, I'll buy you a drink. After I kill Horatio for doing this to us." She turned and headed out of the office, gesturing for him to come along. "Let's go talk to Eric. We need some answers, and I think he just might have them."

* * *

Horatio lay on his bed aboard the yacht, staring at the ceiling. His position as enforcer was forgotten; his betrayal of his oath was forgotten; even his hatred for Riaz was taking a back seat to his grief.

Eric was dead. His gentle, kind Eric was dead… and his death could be laid firmly at Horatio's door.

His heart bled at the thought. Eric was --- had been, and he felt despair wash over him again --- a good man. Fiery, fierce, and emotional with those he knew well. And Horatio had promised himself never to bridge the gap between them, never to reveal what he felt for the younger man. And now it was too late. Too late for what he had sworn never to do, and confusion added itself to the grief in his heart.

Confusion won, briefly. Why did it hurt so badly that Eric was gone? Because Horatio loved him. Had loved him, in fact, for a very long time. And the scene in the garage had torn down the defenses he'd worked so carefully to build; that one touch had been his undoing. He might still never have acted on that love, but Eric would have pursued it. He had seen the realization in Eric's eyes, the emotion provoked by the touch, and Horatio knew he would have gone to any lengths to bring it back to Eric's face. The pure wonder, the joy, the love he had seen in those few seconds, they were worth any price. And now he would never see it again.

He groaned in misery and tried to get comfortable. Restless nights among this lot weren't safe. He needed the edge a full night of sleep would give him to stay one step ahead of the Nuevas, where he needed to be. If he was off-balance due to lack of sleep, they would see it as weakness and his position would become more difficult to hold. He had to stay strong, or he would be eliminated. That was the long and short of it.

Sleep eluded him, however. He didn't even have the solace of tears. He'd not let them fall in a very long time, and dimly he wondered if he even could cry any longer. He wanted to. His heart was in shreds. The pain was so intense it threatened to rob him of his very breath, but still the tears wouldn't fall.

Instead, his mind took a side trip. Cordero, what was he to do about 'Dero? The man had a fixation of some sort on him, he knew, and wondered if he could use that to his advantage. Doing so, however, would be the worst sort of betrayal.

'Dero had killed Eric. And even if he could, by some miracle, dredge up forgiveness from his heart, Horatio would never forget it. What to do, what to do? His thoughts swirled like mercury in his head, fleeting and rapid. 'Dero had more than proved his loyalty, certainly. The shot that had taken Eric out proved it without a doubt. He had taken that shot to protect Horatio, to keep Carlos from suspecting he wasn't completely trustworthy.

Taken in that light, it seemed almost natural. With a pain only slightly less than his grief, he realized that to keep up appearances, he might be forced into betraying Eric --- or more specifically, Eric's memory --- even further.

Right now, though, he needed sleep. And it was determined not to come to him. With a sigh, he rose and began to pace the confines of the cabin, hoping the exercise would wear him down to the point of exhaustion. And he was still pacing several minutes later when there was a discreet tap on his cabin door.

He picked up the Browning before calling permission to enter, although why he wasn't certain. If the visitor had meant him harm, he wouldn't have knocked. "Cordero," he greeted the other man stiffly.

The big Latino closed the door firmly behind him and crossed to sit in one of the two easy chairs, watching Horatio replace the Browning in its holster near the head of the bed. There was an uneasy silence for a moment before Cordero cleared his throat.

"Look, I know you're pissed at me, and you should be. I shouldn't have taken the shot. But I don't want Carlos to get suspicious of you." Cordero looked up, his expression carefully blank. "You need to be here, I got that. And if el Jefe gets suspicious, you won't be. I don't want you dead. Even if I got no chance with you, I don't want you dead."

Horatio blinked. He sat down on the bunk, considering his options. "What makes you think you wouldn't have a chance, 'Dero?" he asked carefully. This had to be handled gently or his whole plan would collapse.

Cordero rose and moved closer. Slowly he knelt before Horatio, holding the older man's eyes with his own. "Because I shot your lover," he said simply as he finally lowered his eyes.

Horatio blinked again. It was the only sign he gave of his shock at 'Dero's words. He didn't understand how the man had figured it out; but it would help further his plan. With a silent apology to Eric's memory, he put it into motion. "He wasn't my lover, 'Dero," he said softly as he tipped the other man's face up. "He was only a friend. A good friend."

Almost on cue, the tears started to fall. His grief for Eric finally found expression and his hands went to his face to try and hide his pain.

"No you don't," 'Dero's voice crooned from somewhere near his ear. He felt himself pulled firmly back against the hard body, felt the other man's arms go around him, heard the whispers and soft kisses on his hair. "You need this, Horatio. You need this, and I'll protect you through it. Let it out. Just let go for a while. No one will get to you, no one will hurt you, I won't let them." He heard the words and he turned them slowly over in his mind, letting the comfort seep into his bruised and battered spirit. And the hell of it was, he believed it. He believed that 'Dero would die for him, if he asked it. And that he did not need. He just couldn't find his voice to protest; and he wasn't certain he would even if he could.

He simply let 'Dero hold him until the storm passed. And when he would have thanked the other man and sent him on his way, 'Dero again took the choice from him, settling him comfortably on the bed and spooning up behind him, holding him tightly.

"Relax, Horatio," he murmured against the redhead's ear. "You haven't been sleeping. Let me guard your dreams, just this one time. You sleep… and I'll guard you. Just sleep."

Horatio was too tired, too spent from the emotional upheavals of the day to argue. He slept.

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Fourteen**

Eric was just leaving the ER when Calleigh, Ryan and Stetler caught up with him. He debated for a second trying to pretend he hadn't seen them; but he discarded the idea quickly. It had to be something pretty serious for Calleigh to drag IAB into it. Had they figured out what he'd done? He fought down a cold sweat; but he still didn't regret it. He probably should, but he didn't. Even if it hurt like hell.

"Eric, we need to talk," Calleigh was saying as they got closer. He'd been right, they knew, or at least suspected. Stetler must be there to arrest him or something, once he had the confirmation.

"Sure, Calleigh, what's up?" Eric tried to keep it conversational, but he knew Calleigh could read him like an open book. She always had. She had to know; the knowledge was in her eyes if not the poker face she always wore on a case. "Let's, um… let's go somewhere private, okay?"

Calleigh nodded and indicated a small waiting room to her left. "This ought to suit." She gestured Rick and Ryan through, then Eric, and closed the door firmly behind them. With a small smile, she tripped the lock. "Probably better if we don't do this in the office anyway, don't you agree, Rick?"

"Completely. Sit down, Delko, this isn't official." Rick gave him a raised eyebrow, daring Eric to contradict him. "We just want to talk."

Eric took a seat across from them. Calleigh and Stetler sure seemed tight. Ryan looked just as confused as he was. What was going on? If it wasn't official, it still didn't seem quite right. Calleigh wouldn't give Stetler the time of day, normally. Of course, Horatio wouldn't normally act the way he was acting, either. The whole world seemed to have taken a left turn into Weirdsville.

"I'm going to start this by telling you that this is in no way an official inquiry, Eric," Calleigh said evenly. "We just want to talk. Nothing said in this room will leave it. That said, why don't you tell me what happened when you saw Horatio?"

"It's not that I don't trust you, Calleigh, I do," Eric began with a meaningful glance over at Stetler. "But if it isn't official, why's he here? No offense, but I don't like IAB sniffing around our business."

"I'm not here as IAB, Delko," Rick replied evenly as he caught Eric's eye. "Believe it or not, I'm here as a friend. I've got information that you guys don't, but I don't know if it's relevant until I hear what you have to say."

"You're helping us?" Ryan growled angrily. "That's a joke, right? What happened to taking Horatio down? That's always been your focus." He shook his head. "I don't believe it." He went to sit by Eric, silently offering support.

"I know you don't trust him," Calleigh began slowly. "But do you trust me? I wouldn't have brought him here if I didn't think we could trust him. Please, Eric, just tell me what happened. It might be important."

Eric took a good hard look at her and almost winced. He knew she had been working hard to prove Horatio wasn't what he appeared; with a sigh, he gave it up. If she had trusted Stetler enough to bring him with her, he needed to trust her not to let him get burned. It said a lot that the trust between them had taken such a beating. He needed to make it right.

"I went in the garage and saw H headed out." He ignored Ryan's hiss of warning; he had to do this. He hadn't realized how badly his words had hurt Calleigh until he had seen the pleading look in her eyes. Pleading with him to trust her again. "I ordered him to stop, held my weapon on him --- and he turned around and lowered his weapon. He… came close, he kept his hands where I could see them." Suddenly he wasn't certain how much to tell them. A lot of this was personal, and could hurt his career. He decided he didn't care, because it was probably over anyway. "He kept asking me to let him go, said I would have to trust him, but I needed to let him go. He was pretty adamant about that. And then he --- I heard someone coming and I told him to shoot me. Make it look good, y'know? He didn't want to, not at first. He was using the Browning, and I knew it wouldn't punch through the vest. Speed was wearing a vest when he was shot point blank with a Tec-9, and it didn't punch through. Browning uses the same sort of ammunition as a Tec-9, so I knew I wouldn't get hurt too bad. Still hurts like hell, though." He knew he was rambling and made an effort to bring things back to the relevant discussion. "I practically forced him to do it. He didn't want to, but it had to look good to protect both of us. Him from the Nuevas, me from you, Calleigh." He had to give a small smile at the thought. "And from IAB. If he shot me, I wasn't responsible for him escaping, right?"

Ryan had his head in his hands, shaking it sadly. "You know you just blew your career, right?" he said angrily. "Eric, what are you thinking? IAB is sitting right across from you and you're confessing to this stuff? I thought you were smarter than that."

"I am not here as IAB, Wolfe, I told you that." Rick's voice was cool and calm, though there was an undercurrent of anger. "I'm here because I have some pieces of the puzzle you guys don't yet. I've already shared them with Calleigh. And Delko just supplied another piece. I think I was right."

"Looks that way, Rick," Calleigh replied evenly. "Eric, Ryan, we need to talk about what's been happening." She gave them a quick rundown of the conversation she and Rick had had at the office. "It looks like Horatio might be undercover, somehow. He's certainly gone out of his way to avoid anyone getting hurt. And the dead Nueva in the morgue only confirms that. Horatio didn't fire a killing shot; he died from blunt force trauma. Someone finished him off after Horatio shot him."

"The only thing I get from my contact is 'Wait. We're watching the situation.'" Rick added quickly. "Which is why I thought Horatio might be undercover in the first place. The CIA is blocking all investigations into the Nuevas. We were only able to get a warrant for the Star Island property because I talked to my contact and he swore it wouldn't mess up their operation."

Ryan was in shock. He closed his mouth firmly to keep from looking like a beached fish. "I can't get my head around this," he complained. "Stetler helping us, I mean. The rest of it makes perfect sense, but… this is just weird." He glanced over at Rick with a wry grin. "Sorry. I'm just too used to you trying to pin something on one of us. Hard to get around that."

Rick nodded. "Understandable. Let's get back to the subject at hand, shall we? Delko, what did he do that convinced you he was on the up and up?"

Eric stared at him for a moment, considering his options. In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought wryly. Mami always said nothing was worth doing if you didn't put everything into it. "If one word of this goes past this room, I'll know who did it," he warned. "He --- touched me, my face, I mean. And I could see his eyes real clear. He didn't want to be doing what he was doing. He was, like, torn up inside, I could see it."

"Horatio isn't a very touchy guy," Calleigh remarked carefully. "He keeps himself in his own personal space unless there's a reason to touch. It makes sense to me."

"Okay, let's put it all together." Ryan went over everything again, interweaving Stetler's points with theirs, and had to admit it made a pretty compelling argument. "Sounds like we'll need to do some creative investigating," he said cautiously. "And we'll need to make sure it doesn't end up in the wrong hands."

"We won't file reports until the investigation is concluded," Calleigh reminded him. "Everything will be under lock and key in the office. I'll make sure it's secure. Rick?"

"Not one report gets filed in my office, either. Not until it's over. My word on it." Rick kept his voice firm. He wanted them to trust him. But he wasn't sure why. It was a golden opportunity to get rid of Horatio, but he couldn't use it. And to be honest, he didn't want to, not any more.

"Let's get to work, guys. Rick, I'll CC you on everything. You keep us updated on what your contact tells you, please. We're all in this together. Everyone agree?" Calleigh waited for assent from her guys before nodding herself. "Everyone reports to me or Rick. Let's unravel this thing. He's been trying to tell us something, something big is on the horizon. Let's figure it out so Horatio can come home."

* * *

Horatio woke with a start. It had been a while since he'd had a man in his bed; and that arm definitely didn't belong to a woman. Slowly memory flooded back and he relaxed slightly. Cordero. The big man had held him through his grief and made sure he slept.

Rather considerate of him, truthfully. Although Horatio would never forgive him for what he had done, he could still use the big man's attraction to his advantage. What better way to control an obsessive than to use that obsession to your advantage? Unfortunately, that might lead to a worse betrayal of Eric's memory. He sighed; he would do whatever was necessary to see this through.

Slowly, gently, he tried to move out from under that arm without waking the other man, but it was no use. Cordero opened one eye and regarded him steadily.

"Feel better?" Dero enquired softly. "You were pretty wrecked."

Horatio nodded. "Thank you," he replied cautiously. "Dero, I'm a little confused. Why the sudden need to watch over me? You haven't been this --- concerned --- until recently. What's going on? You've covered me with the boss, you held me while I was grieving… why?"

"Because I like you. A lot." It was a shock to see the big man blush, but he did a good job of it. "You're unusual in a place like this. You have a sense of honor. Nobody else here does. You know el Jefe won't honor his promise to you."

Horatio nodded slowly. "I figured as much. But I gave my word, Dero, and I won't break it." He gave the other man a considering glance. "Just because Carlos is a bastard doesn't mean I have to be one."

"See, that's what I like about you." Dero pulled H closer, holding him tightly, but not so tightly he couldn't move away if he chose. "Add that to you being easy on the eyes and well… I like you a lot more than I should." He was crimson by the time he finished speaking.

Horatio wondered how he could ever have thought the man was a threat to him. He sounded so desperate to please, so eager for acceptance. Silently he cursed Carlos for using that quality to his advantage… and then cursed himself for the same intention. Surely he was damned for all the things he had done of late; and for the one unforgivable sin in his past. He had spent a lifetime doing penance for that death, and now --- now it was all wasted. The thought was sobering, to say the least.

He also realized that dismissing the threat Dero posed him was foolish. He had been a very hard man when Horatio arrived, and it would be extremely stupid to dismiss the possibility of more violence, regardless of the almost innocent way he now regarded H. Something didn't jibe, and he wanted to keep his skin in one piece, so he would still be watchful.

"Wish you'd tell me the truth, though. That guy in the garage. Eric. You said he was just a friend, but he wasn't, not really. You don't grieve that hard over a friend." Dero caught his eye and held it. "If he wasn't your lover, you still wanted him. I can see that." He raised a tentative hand to Horatio's face again, rubbing the knuckles lightly over the cheekbone. "The way you touched his face. I was jealous. I kept thinking that I'd like you to touch me like that, just once." He shrugged and got up from the bed. "Won't happen, though. You love him too much. I can't compete with a ghost." He walked over to the table and sat down hard.

Horatio also rose, silently cursing stiff joints from a long time spent in the same position. It had been years, truth to tell, since he had slept so deeply. He dropped into the chair opposite Cordero and gently raised the other man's face. "I loved Eric, Dero, I won't deny that. I can't. And I can't… I can't give you what you want. Not yet. I need… I need some time, Dero, some time to adjust to the loss." Maybe he could salvage this. If he could keep Cordero at arm's length and still have a hold on him, this might still have a chance of succeeding.

Dero leaned into the touch, his expression full of regret. "I know. And I won't push. But I will be here when you need a friend. Like you needed last night." He pulled back and got up. "Right now, you need to eat. I'll get you something. You get a shower and it'll be here when you're done."

Horatio stared at the cabin door for a long moment before heading for the shower. Cordero had given him a lot to think about. His mind was working feverishly, trying to put all the myriad pieces of this puzzle together.

How had Dero known Eric's name?

TBC…


	15. Chapter 15

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

APOLOGY: I am SO sorry I haven't posted the rest of this! I'll be putting up a chapter a day now until I'm caught up. So sorry to not have done it before now! Real life just stinks sometimes, y'know?

**Part Fifteen**

Alexx was laying in wait for them when they got back to the office. Rick excused himself quickly and took off for his office to try and pry more information out of his contact. Calleigh and Ryan quickly flanked Eric, silently offering support while remaining out of Alexx's way.

She was firmly in Mom mode, too. "You just come with me, honey," she urged as she took his arm. "I know these ER doctors and they might have missed something. I'll just make sure you're okay before I let you go back to work."

Eric gave Calleigh the deer in the headlights look but she just laughed softly. "You go with Alexx, hon, we'll get to work on this and then you can join us." She couldn't resist giving him a little pat on the arm. "You know she has to check you out, it's a Mom thing." She turned and took Ryan toward the office.

"I guess I'm all yours, Alexx," Eric said with a shrug. He gave a hiss of pain when the shrug pulled at the sore muscles in his chest. "It's just a bruise, honest. The vest caught it."

"Uh huh. Didn't catch this one, did it?" she replied with a snort as she gently touched the bandage on his shoulder. She indicated the table and he obediently got up on it. "Let's just have a look, baby. You came so close to dying, Eric, what happened out there? Two inches over and you'd have bled out."

"It's a scratch, Mom." Eric was a little irritated, but he tried to keep it out of his voice. Alexx mothered all of them, and he really shouldn't resent it; but he did for some reason this time. "Just a scratch. I'm fine. Really."

"Yep, it sure is." Alexx's voice was calm. "Just like your chest is just a bruise. You shouldn't be here, honey, you should be home in bed." She shook her head at him and then fixed him under her assessing gaze. "I see one hint that you aren't one hundred percent, Eric Delko, I'll have you home in bed so fast your head will spin." She paused for a moment. "Now, you tell me something, and I want the truth. Why would Horatio do such a thing?"

Eric wanted to hide. He didn't want to have to explain things to Alexx. It had been bad enough trying to tell Calleigh. Alexx was worse; it was like trying to explain it to his own mother. "I forced him to do it." Crap, that was so not what he'd meant to say. He'd meant to deny it, but as usual he'd told her the truth. He put his head in his hands and groaned. She was giving him that look again, the one she usually turned on them when she wanted an answer and she wanted it now.

"I forced the issue. Someone was coming, and if I'd just let him go, it would have looked pretty bad for both of us. The gang would have thought he was a plant… and Calleigh would have eaten me alive. You know that. It had to look good." He shrugged again and winced. "I knew the round wouldn't punch through the vest. I was safe, Alexx. Promise. See, nothing to worry about, I'm here, I'm breathing, I'm not hurt at all."

"Oh, baby, you could have thought of something better! What if you'd been wrong? I don't want any more of you in here on my table, Eric! It was bad enough with Speed, don't you DARE do that to me again!" Alexx was near tears but she got herself under control quickly. "I want you to rest. No field work for a few days. I know Horatio is still out there. But you won't find him any faster if you kill yourself doing it, and a bullet strike is no laughing matter, whether it penetrated or not." She hugged him close. "It's going to hurt even worse tomorrow. So you stay in the lab for a few days. Promise me that and I won't even ask why you thought you had to let him go." It was a big favor to him and she knew it. She was burning to understand why Horatio had gone over. He had always seemed so driven to protect those who couldn't protect themselves; how had he become so hard and so dark? But she had promised not to ask him, so she wouldn't. Ryan was another matter. He'd tell her anything she wanted to know.

"Yes, Mom," Eric replied obediently with a small smile. He knew she was itching for answers, but he wouldn't give them to her. It was a huge victory for him that she was willing to back down on the issue. He held his hand over his heart and gave her his most charming grin. "Cross my heart. I'll stay in the lab."

"You go on then. And if it gets too bad, Eric, don't try to ride it out," she said firmly. "I know they gave you some pills at the ER. If it gets bad, you take them." With a final pat of reassurance she let him get down from the table and leave the room.

She went to the phone to page Ryan. He would give her the answers she wanted. Even if she had to drag those answers out of him.

* * *

Calleigh was fuming, but she knew this needed to be done. She didn't have to like it. So when Erica Sikes came into the conference room, she forced a smile and gestured for the woman to have a seat. "I have a proposition for you," she said without preamble. Behind her, Ryan winced and looked at the floor and Eric leaned back against the wall.

He'd gotten no farther than the hallway outside Autopsy when Calleigh, Stetler, and Wolfe ambushed him. They'd given him the lowdown and of course, he'd agreed… he just wished they'd picked a better way of doing it.

Calleigh had finished speaking while he was remembering and he dragged his attention back to the other woman, expecting her complete rejection of the scheme.

"You want me to report what?" Erica growled. "That's asking a lot, coming from you guys. Usually you're down my throat wanting to make sure it's accurate."

"It's either that, or we hold you indefinitely, Erica," Calleigh riposted smoothly. "We need for the Nuevas to think he's a _lot_ worse off than he really is. We can't pass off a death, but every station in Miami is headlining tonight with the shooting. We need our version out there where it can be seen."

"Bottom line, Duquesne, what's in it for me?" Erica knew she was hooked… but she needed some concessions in order to salve her ambition. "It'll ruin my credibility unless I can cite a source. _And_ be able to name names once this is over. Otherwise, no deal."

Calleigh grinned and the two men let out a sigh of relief. This had been the hard part. When she had presented Rick's plan to them, they had both questioned the possibility; but with Erica caving in like this, it seemed much more feasible.

"You report this as I've given it to you. Your source, who spoke on guarantee of anonymity, tells you that Eric is in critical condition in an undisclosed location and not expected to survive. Evidence links the Solaras Nuevas to the shooting. Anyone with information should contact the department. Nothing else, no embellishments. In return…" Her voice trailed off for a moment and she cleared her throat. "In return, you get notification when we make the arrests. First look at the story. Chance to make or break it. Do we have a deal? Or do I simply have the uniform outside this door take you down to holding for a few days? Your choice."

* * *

Carlos Pacheco gripped the phone tightly, his expression closed and angry. "You are certain of this?"

The voice on the other end spoke rapidly in Spanish, detailing the information he had received from his informant. Delko was not dead, was barely even wounded, despite the news reports. He had been wearing a vest, and Caine would not have failed to notice. The man had spent his career as a law officer being observant to such things. It had to have been an intentional miss.

Cordero had attempted to cover Horatio's mistake. That meant, also, that the enforcer could not be trusted either. He was too fixated on Caine to have retained his loyalty to Carlos. This was an extreme problem.

The weapons had been obtained. There was nothing left, now, but to wait for his partner to arrive to set things in motion. Once it was done, he would control Miami's drug trade and weapons market. It must succeed at all costs.

He received assurances from the phone that his partner would be arriving later that evening. Then he rang off, contemplating the situation and what could be done to salvage it. Had Caine simply miscalculated? Unlikely. Had Cordero simply been covering Carlos' interests? Possibly.

Miguel had not been killed by Caine. Cordero had confessed to finishing the man off after Caine's shot had incapacitated him. If he had been left to die, he might have been found and given information about Carlos' operation. Had Caine counted on that? If he had intentionally left Delko alive, it seemed likely. Cordero had again covered Caine's mistake.

He took a sip of his wine and leaned back in his chair, his thoughts swirling. Finally, a decision was reached and he sent for Cordero.

A few moments discussion satisfied him that the Nicaraguan was loyal to him, though he harbored an inexplicable fondness for Caine. There was nothing for it. After all, if Caine was a plant, he would have to be eliminated. And he thought his partner would take great pleasure in carrying out the execution.

After all, Riaz had sworn to destroy the redhead. And it would confirm Carlos' loyalty to the Mala Noche.

**TBC…**


	16. Chapter 16

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Sixteen**

Horatio waited until Dero had passed by once more toward his own room. This wasn't a good development, he thought anxiously. When the boss started having meetings with the second instead of the enforcer, something was up.

Quickly he detoured to the bureau and swept up his weapon. It went into the shoulder rig without a sound and he took a moment to check his clothing. Black as the night outside, just like the cap he placed onto his head and he slipped silently over the railing of the balcony to land softly in a half crouch in the darkened garden.

A flurry of motion around the entrance caught his attention and he ducked down, keeping himself hidden to watch.

He'd gotten out not a moment too soon. The limousine was Carlos', but the occupant drew Horatio's rage and fury. Riaz!

He had to be quick. They would be looking for him any moment. He wasn't certain what had tipped them off, but he had a good idea it had been Dero. Damn it, anyway. He had let himself be fooled by the big man's declaration of devotion, had intended to use it to his advantage, and the other man had been playing _him. _He felt ten different kinds of foolish, and he didn't like it.

He made the fence surrounding the compound just as the lights went on. No more time for subtlety, then. Voices carried to him on the night breeze and he cursed as he went over the wall. He had an escape route in place… hopefully he wouldn't be caught before he could get off the tiny island. There would be no help for him if he was; they had docked in international waters.

He found the little skiff he'd hidden a few hours earlier and pushed it quickly into the water, driving with his legs as he heard the sounds of pursuit close behind. He ducked into the boat, using the sides as what little protection they provided as the unmistakable sound of weapons fire reached him and the first slug passed by his ear.

They weren't fooling around. His cover was well and truly blown. What had happened? Whatever it was, he didn't have time to worry about it now. Right now, he had to get out of range of those high-end sniper rifles he'd helped them steal, before one of them found their mark.

He engaged the motor and headed toward the Miami shoreline, fifteen miles distant. Could he outrun them? If they'd had the yacht ready, he was a dead man. But as precious moments went by and he heard no sound other than his own outboard, he began to relax slightly.

Now to decide who to trust. Certainly not Park. He wouldn't have put it past the CIA operative to have sold him out if it had looked necessary. No, his own people would be more likely… but the newscasts had reported Eric wounded and near death. Would he be able to reach them? Would they trust him if he did? He certainly couldn't just walk into the hospital and ask to see Eric. He'd be in cuffs before he'd gone ten feet. No, there had to be another way.

He was beginning to think he had made it to safety when a ribbon of fire sliced across his back. He bit down on the outcry -- it wasn't easy -- and went over the side. It would be much harder for them to track a swimmer than the boat, and he was close enough to the shoreline to make it easily. If the sharks didn't scent the blood.

Very, very close to Hell's Bay. If he could get in there, they would never find him. The reputation of the place would protect him. Between the gators and the sharks, few who ventured in came out alive. And the tall sawgrass around the area would be a great hiding place. There, he could decide how bad the wound was... and just who he might be able to trust.

Calleigh grimaced slightly, but she knew she needed to do this. Frank had more than proven his friendship with Horatio; and she knew he had been responsible for the 'ride' Horatio and Eric had taken Marisol's killer on.

She stepped over to him easily, silently cursing her hesitation on bringing him in. He was a friend. "Frank? Sweetie, you got a minute? Got a question for you."

He rose, towering over the petite blonde, his face a mask of disbelief, hurt, and stark fury. "I figured it was about time," he growled back as he indicated one of the Interrogation rooms. "This got something to do with the news report I heard earlier?" One eyebrow raised in challenge as he closed the door behind them and deliberately tripped the lock.

Calleigh groaned mentally. She had hoped that since he was still in the station he hadn't encountered it. Obviously it had been a false hope. "It does. Frank, you weren't here when we cooked this up, or I would have told you. You know I would never deliberately keep you in the dark."

"Right." Tripp's voice was full of scorn. "Wouldn't be the first time. What the hell, it won't be the last, either. So tell me." He dropped into the chair opposite her with a weary sigh. "Where are you keeping Delko stashed, since I _know_ he wasn't hit that hard."

"He's in Alexx's office," she stated bluntly. "This is what we know." Quickly she outlined everything they had discovered for him, watching his face lighten with each revelation. The anger remained, but it was tempered now with a cautious optimism.

"You're telling me Stetler brought this to you?" he asked incredulously. "The guy who's been trying to get Horatio's job since I've known him? Got to be something else going on with him." He shook his head in disbelief. "Stetler aside, Calleigh, what's going on? You had to promise that reporter something to get her to run that report. It's full of falsified information. You get approval from upstairs for it?"

Calleigh shook her head as well. "Rick gave me his word he'd clear it, and for some reason, I believe him. All that aside, Frank, can you think of anything we could say more likely to bring Horatio to us? He's been trying to tell us something. We've gotten part of the message, and Rick's contact has given us more. Horatio hasn't gone over, Frank, we've got proof positive now. Riaz is back in the country. We just don't know where."

There was a tap at the door and Tripp raised his eyes from the table as Calleigh whipped around to see who was interrupting. Her own eyes widened as she saw Eric and she let him in, scolding him for allowing himself to be seen.

"It doesn't matter any more, Calleigh," he was explaining as he thrust a report at her. "Prints came back from our Nueva in the morgue. They're flagged. Number goes back to a Federal response." Eric held her eye for a moment more before nodding toward Tripp. "Which means we've got something Stetler's contact doesn't have. He didn't mention anything about another agent under."

Of necessity, their voices were all kept low; but it didn't stop them from being overheard. Rick ushered them back into the room as he arrived as well and firmly closed the door, tripping the lock and looking grim. "Not only that, but he's the one that told me Riaz was back in the country. Something didn't sound right, so I did some digging. I went to the source. I talked to Agent Park."

Calleigh gave a start of surprise but Eric sat down with a thump. "Park. I should have known, I should have thought," he groaned. "H going off on his own, the whole thing. It stank from the minute we found our visas blocked."

Frank pushed up from the table. "This ain't the place to have this discussion," he said evenly as he gathered his jacket from the back of the chair. "Delko, bud, you're supposed to be one step up from dead, so let's get you back under wraps. And we'll need to find Wolfe." He knew that things were shaping up fast, and Stetler obviously had more to tell them. "Who else knows?"

Calleigh was quick to reassure him. "Alexx. No one else. I'll get Eric back downstairs, Frank, you find Ryan. Rick?"

"You get everyone together, we'll sit down and hash this out. There's more, a lot more. And none of it is good." Rick held her eye for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll meet you all downstairs. Half an hour, maybe an hour."

Riaz bounced his fist off the desk in front of Carlos, rage contorting every feature. "How could you let this happen?" he snarled. "Caine cannot be allowed to live. Find him. Kill him. I give up that pleasure in order to protect out interests here. He must die!"

Carlos attempted to soothe him, apparently unconcerned. "There are men searching for him now, Antonio. Be at ease. He will not make it back to Miami alive."

The phone rang and Carlos put it on the speaker. "Cordero, _mi hijo,_ tell me you have found him and the deed is done."

Cordero's voice was strained; he was shouting above the engine noise. "He made it into Hell's Bay, _jefe, _but he won't come out alive. The gators and the sharks will find him if we don't. He will be dead by morning. We are not giving up." The warning had been heard and received; Carlos might forgive another mistake, but Riaz would not. If he couldn't provide proof of Horatio's death, he himself would die next. It mattered not one bit the blood he shared with Carlos; all that mattered now were the results of this hunt. Horatio had to die.

"There, you see? Dero will see to it personally." Carlos still appeared at ease; but inwardly, he wondered. If Cordero failed, he would lose his one remaining son. "I want hourly updates, Dero, and notify me when you find him. If he is still alive, you will return him to us."

The big man agreed and rang off. Riaz fairly quivered with suppressed rage. "You have until noon, Pacheco, and then I will have _my_ men find him. And you will find you control _nothing._ Nothing but the earth I will bury you in." He stalked out of the office.

**TBC...**


	17. Chapter 17

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Seventeen**

Horatio crouched in the sawgrass, hoping to stay hidden a bit longer. Pacheco's men had been searching the area for hours now. If he so much as breathed heavily, they would find him.

He would have to make a move soon. Dawn was breaking. The sunlight would give him away, though he was mostly covered by the tall grass. Desperately he wished for something to distract them. He was no commando, to find weapons where none existed… but he _did_ know the area, hopefully better than his trackers.

Slowly, as silently as he was able, he moved backward, deeper into the water under the tall reeds, keeping his eyes barely above the water to watch which direction his pursuers took.

A splashing noise and a scream nearby warned him and he froze, waiting for shots. He wasn't disappointed. There was a commotion a few yards to his left as the men converged on that spot and Horatio spotted Dero among them. That wasn't good, either. He wanted to avoid a confrontation with the enforcer. The big man could break him like a twig if he truly wanted, and Horatio didn't want to push him into it.

He used the sounds of the carnage to scramble across the dirt-packed road and flatten himself in the tall reeds beyond. The noise quieted, and he waited tensely for the sounds of pursuit to begin again.

There was no warning, no indication that the men had resumed the search -- but suddenly, Horatio found himself staring directly into Cordero's deep brown eyes.

No words were spoken. None were needed. A minute shift of Dero's head told him what he needed to know; the big man was still covering for him. He nodded his thanks and deliberately caught the leg of his black pants on an outcropping as he moved away, leaving a scrap of fabric for Dero to take. It would give credibility to the idea that the sharks or the gators had gotten him first.

He watched from a distance as Dero scooped up the evidence and turned back to the remains of his crew. One man was missing; Horatio assumed he had been the casualty. He hated assumptions, he'd really much rather have proof, but it was a fairly safe one. There was blood spattered on some of their clothes. Then, sighing, wondering what in the hell Dero was up to, he moved on. He had to find a safe place to lay up and plan.

Alexx's conference room was a little crowded, but the occupants didn't mind much. They had far more important things to discuss than a little discomfort.

Rick stepped into the room and pulled the door closed with a snap. A quick head count assured him they were all present and he sat down with a weary groan. "You're not going to like it, any of it. When I talked to my contact at the CIA earlier, he told me something interesting. He told me that Riaz was back in the country, was actually here in Miami." He caught Eric's gaze for a moment. "After what you had told me about the confrontation at the cemetery, I thought it sounded a bit suspicious. So I contacted Agent Park."

Calleigh was watching him closely, but could see no signs of deceit. Whatever he'd heard was bothering Rick a great deal, it was obvious. She felt a cold lump of dread settle into her stomach.

No one made a sound. Finally Ryan broke the silence. "So?"

Rick shook his head. "We've been assured all along that things weren't as they seemed. Horatio was leaving evidence. It even convinced me that he was part of a larger op. So when I talked to Park, I mentioned my contact by name." He took a deep breath. "Park demanded a meeting. So we talked face to face, and I found out some very disturbing things. Not the least of which is that Jeffers -- my contact -- was under investigation himself. Suspected of ties to the Mala Noche. No proof, so they were giving him enough rope to hang himself, and he just did. Jeffers is the one who got Riaz back into the country. Not only that… it seems he's been acting on Riaz's orders all along."

There was a babble of confusion and he waited until it subsided, taking on the look of a man about to face the executioner. "Park confirmed it. _There was no op._ Horatio went under without any protection, without backup, without any plans in place. Jeffers set the whole thing up as a way to get Riaz back in the country -- and to get Horatio where Riaz could kill him."

Dead silence reigned for several seconds, and then Eric went over the table at him. Ryan and Tripp both grabbed for Eric, trying to keep him from killing the other man. Eric was struggling desperately to get free of their restraining hold, shouting curses in three languages and nearly incoherent with fury. "You _bastard!"_ he snarled as he again lunged forward. "We trusted you to tell us the truth, to help keep H safe! You lying _shit!"_

"I only just found out, Delko, _sit down,_" Rick thundered. Eric forced himself back down into a chair, glaring at the other man balefully. "Park says there is no official op in progress. None. Even if we get him out alive, Horatio is in big trouble. MDPD won't take responsibility for an undercover op. Park says the CIA _can't._ Their operation ended with Miguel Santos' death." He dropped back down into his seat, looking pale and drawn. "Do you have any idea how many uniforms are out there looking for an excuse to shoot Horatio? There won't be time for explanations or excuses. If he shows his face, he's a dead man."

"Then we make sure he doesn't." All eyes focused on Tripp. "What? I'm just sayin' what we're all thinking. We've got to find him first."

Calleigh shook her head in confusion. "And how are we going to do that? We'll be watched for certain, now. And Horatio is still with the Nuevas. He might already be dead. We can't assume anything." Her green eyes glittered with tears, but it was frustration rather than fear behind them. "We can't get a message to him, we can't track him, how do you propose we find him?"

"We listen, and we wait." Rick hated being the voice of reason, but someone had to. Dimly he resented the fact that Horatio had inspired such loyalty in these people; they were ready to throw everything away and go to the wall for him. The resentment faded, however, before the stark truth that Horatio had _earned_ that trust, that loyalty. "Sooner or later, someone is going to see him. We can't go after the Nuevas straight on; yes, we've got the evidence… but they've gone to ground outside our jurisdiction. Park gave me what he knew. They're on a private island in international waters."

Eric was still seething, but he had the lid on his temper for the moment. Fury still clipped his words, however, and he made no effort to conceal it. "So we just sit here and wait for them to drop him off in a bag, is that it?" he rumbled threateningly. "We just let them kill him and do _nothing?"_

"I listened because Calleigh asked me to, I bought in because she said you were on the level, but I'm agreeing with Eric," Ryan snapped angrily, his hazel eyes glittering. "We can't just leave this alone. We can't let them kill him. We have to do _something._"

Tripp said nothing, but the flexing of his big hands spoke volumes, as did the glare he threw the IAB agent. Calleigh put both hands flat on the table with a solid thunk. "Let him talk, guys," she demanded, her eyes never leaving Rick's. "I'm sure he's got an idea." _He'd better have,_ her expression told him.

Rick leaned forward in his chair. "It's possible he's already dead. I don't want to believe that any more than you guys do. But we have to accept the possibility. And we can't let him take priority over figuring out what the Nuevas are up to. If they're tied in with Riaz, those guns won't just be for show. They're going to try something. We've got to be a step ahead of them or it'll be a bloodbath." He kept his face impassive; he knew his words were either going to hit their mark or start a war. "You guys need to get your objectivity back, here. Follow the evidence, see where it leads you. _Don't compromise the case._ Find out what he was trying to tell you. Don't make his risks meaningless."

Calleigh was the first to back down, and her acquiescence started a cascade effect around the table. The only holdouts were Eric, who was eyeing Rick with a distinctly hostile expression, and Tripp. He was looking down at the table as though gathering his thoughts.

Finally he raised his head, his face expressionless. "Okay, and while they're investigating, what are you going to be doin'?" he demanded, though his voice remained even.

"Frank," Rick returned slowly, "it's not what _I'm_ going to be doing. It's what _we_ are going to do. Let's go, I'll explain in the car."

**TBC...**


	18. Chapter 18

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who betas my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Eighteen**

Horatio considered for a moment as he watched the speedboat leave from nearby. Dero had covered for him again… and yet Carlos wouldn't have known Horatio was a plant without the Nicaraguan having spilled his guts. He wasn't sure what to believe of the big man.

He needed to find a place to clean up. Swamp water wasn't recommended for swimming in on a good day; and having an open wound was just begging for an infection from the amount of bacteria and pollution flowing through the Glades at any given time. Slowly he began to make his way along the bank, keeping the speedboat in view until it went behind a stand of thick growth and then moving a bit more quickly. He still had the gators and the sharks to worry about.

He had to get out of the water. That was the first order of business, and _then_ he could figure out the nearest shelter. He didn't dare go back into a civilized area; the first uniform he ran across would either run him in or just shoot him. And he wasn't willing to take odds on which desire would win out, either.

Slowly, he managed to get up on the road again and went a few yards further. Good, he'd been right; there was a fishing shack setting a few yards back from the main road in the heavy growth. Dark, obscure… just what he needed. Now, if it was just uninhabited, he'd have it made.

Maybe not. Not only was it deserted, it was a wreck. There would be little left of use. The roof was falling in, the walls were falling down, and it had been untenanted for a very long time. The floorboards, what remained of them, were dark with moss and flimsy with rot. The whole place stank and could hardly be considered better than the water, truth be told. However, it was a shelter of sorts.

He couldn't really afford to be picky. He squinched himself into a corner where the floor looked sturdiest and propped his back against the wall. Didn't feel too bad; but it was still a gunshot wound and would have to be reported by whoever tended it. No blankets, no cushions… and he thought he'd never been more comfortable than he was at that moment. He was relatively safe, relatively unharmed, and his mind and body were demanding a little rest before he tried to think much more. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, barely aware that dawn had already broken across the Glades outside. Just a little rest, that was all he needed…

*********

Calleigh, Ryan, and Eric were in the layout room, rehashing what evidence they had. "They've got enough weapons to start a small war. But the Nuevas aren't the Mala Noche," she reminded them firmly. "They have always dealt mostly in drugs, not guns. We're missing something."

"Each hit went down within hours of each other. We got the warrant for Star Island but weren't able to collar anyone but the hired help, and they don't know anything of value." Eric was reciting by memory, his eyes on the ceiling, trying to put the pieces together and failing. "Horatio told me there, he'd left us evidence, he'd left us clues. All we've found are the casings. What else could he have left?"

"His house had been swept clean, but we found that dark hair. Valera couldn't find a match in any of the databases. I asked her to keep checking; something might pop up in one of the off-the-wall searches. She hasn't found anything yet." Ryan shook his head. "Horatio once described the Mala Noche as the new Mafia. Specializing in murder-for-hire, extortion, the list goes on. No drugs, though. How does that fit with the Nuevas?"

"And Riaz is back in the country." Something was missing. Calleigh could almost see it but it was still as elusive as vapor. "This just doesn't fit. Rick's contact in the CIA was working for Riaz and the Mala Noche. Why set Horatio up with the Nuevas? Unless…" A sudden suspicion caught her and she gasped in recognition. Both men looked at her askance as she suddenly began writing frantically on the clearboard. "The Noches dealt in guns. The Nuevas deal in drugs. Riaz, who led the Noches, gets deported and the Nuevas come to power in Miami. They're riding high and here comes Jeffers with this sweetheart of an undercover deal for Horatio. Infiltrate the Nuevas, bring them down as well, cut some of the drug traffic in Miami. Jeffers even offers Horatio the perfect cover excuse, the chance to do damage to Riaz where he's sitting in Brazil."

Eric had walked around behind the board and was studying it closely. "Except it wasn't an undercover deal. He's really putting Horatio in the hot seat and destroying his reputation while trying to get Riaz back into the country. So Horatio, who thinks he's undercover, is leaving us shell casings at every scene to try and leave us a trail of breadcrumbs to follow. Only we don't have all the pieces."

Ryan was also studying the diagram Calleigh had made. "So we're able to get the warrant for the Star Island. I think that must have slipped through Jeffers' fingers, because it was a pretty broad warrant. Horatio is forced to shoot Eric to make things look good, only he's got someone else watching his back. The second shooter. Only, the second shooter missed, as well, and Eric was barely hurt."

"Yeah, barely hurt like you with a nail in your eye," Eric grumbled. He rubbed at his chest a bit. "Calleigh, you ran the trajectories through the computer, what'd you get?"

She drew a circle around the question mark she'd made on the board. "They just finished a few minutes ago. The second shooter wasn't aiming to kill. It looked, at first glance, like he was trying for a head shot; but the shot was off by three degrees to have been fatal. Doesn't sound like a lot, put that way, but it is. There was no chance for it to kill you. It was a professional shot."

"Okay, so someone is covering Horatio's ass." Ryan's voice was thoughtful. "No official operation, Park says, but someone is deliberately keeping him alive. Another question there's no answer to yet." He ran his eyes over the board again. "Nuevas with guns as well as drugs, now… and Riaz back in the country." His eyes got wide with apprehension. "Calleigh, what was taken from the Dispo van?"

She caught his thought and ran with it. The list of items was burned into her mind; she'd gone over it enough times that she had seen some of it in her sleep, even. "Long-range weapons, mostly small and easily carried. Rifles, 308's, hard to trace…" Her face went white. "And the rocket launcher Riaz had on him at the airport."

Eric snarled and banged a fist on the table. "Riaz told me and H at the airport that if we took down one Mala Noche, a hundred more would jump in. He was talking about the Nuevas, he had to be. Hundreds more, ready made troops."

"Terrorists. He was trying to take down a plane." All eyes went to the board, wide with alarm. "He's going to try it again. And this time, he'll have snipers in place to take out anyone trying to stop him."

"We don't have the authority for something this big, especially while it's still speculation. But I know someone who'll run with it." Both men were still staring at her when the call finally went through. "Homeland Security? Agent Windower, please."

*******

Rick pulled to a stop along the roadside near the waterfront. "Paco hangs out down here," Tripp remarked idly.

"He's the only snitch of Horatio's I know," Rick explained patiently. "If anything's gone down with the Nuevas, he'll know it and be able to clue us in." He moved forward slightly, scanning the area for the boy. "And I only know about him from snooping through Horatio's files. I wish I'd known about him earlier, might have saved us some grief."

Tripp nodded and headed off in the opposite direction. "You won't find him that way, anyway," he growled. "Most kids hang in the mini-mall. We'll try there first. And we'll talk later about going through people's things."

Rick nodded and fell in step with the taller man, wondering slightly what was going through Tripp's mind. It couldn't be pleasant; the detective hadn't been in on the discussions Rick had shared with Calleigh. Therefore, Tripp was still regarding him as the enemy, even though he'd been completely filled in. Rick gave a heavy sigh and tried to get used to the idea. It took some doing. He'd gotten used to being treated halfway decent by Caine's people, so it was hard for him to go back to being disliked.

He'd fallen behind for a moment, lost in thought, and took two steps forward to catch up. Tripp had the boy by the collar. "Hey, easy, Paco," Rick said evenly. "Let's talk."

The two men half dragged the boy to the car and held him firmly against it. Tripp was handling the physical stuff, so Rick just concentrated on the boy. He looked scared.

"Hey, man, I just did what Caine wanted, dig? You got nothin' on me! Ease up!" For all his bravado, Paco was still a scared young man, and it was obvious. "Ain't my fault!"

"Now just what ain't your fault, boy?" Tripp demanded as he let go. "You better start talkin', kid, or we're takin' a ride downtown. How'd you think your buds'll take that, huh? Start callin' you snitch, and worse."

"I ain't no snitch!" Outrage colored Paco's voice for a moment. "Caine, he comes down here, actin' the heavy, see? Tells me I got to deliver a message to el Jefe, wants a meeting. That's all I did, yo. All I did. Deliver a damned message. Now you come down here leanin' on me? Ain't my fault your _hombre_ done got himself waxed."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, slick," Tripp rumbled a he hauled the boy back once more. His eyes met Rick's over the top of Paco's head with a "What do we do now?" sort of look.

Rick got up in the kid's face. "When and where?" he snarled. "And don't play with me, kid, I can be your friend or I can be your worst nightmare. I want details and I want them _now."_

Paco felt the noose tightening and swallowed hard. It was obvious these two weren't low end cops; they were Caine's friends and that wasn't a good thing right now. "Last night," he managed to squeak. "Carlos, he's got a place on one of the islands, right? US only recognizes twelve miles out at US territory, this place is fifteen, sixteen miles out. International. That's where they went after the search, right?"

He continued carefully, watching the men's faces and more than a little frightened by the coldness he saw there. "Carlos, he's in with Riaz and the Noches. Always has been. The Nuevas, they ain't the Noches' rivals, no way. They're the backup squad. An' Riaz got back in the country last night. They was plannin' on icing Caine, only he got away from them. I don't know what happened after that, I swear… except Dero comes back this mornin' with proof Caine's dead, see? Now everybody's happy, Riaz is happy, Carlos is happy, and you two come down here and rain on my parade. We done?"

"One more question," Tripp barked as Rick stepped back, rubbing his jaw with one hand. "You tell me where the body is, Paco, and I won't push your ears together for you. They got to have a body if they got proof."

"Hell's Bay, that's all I know. Dero came in from Hell's Bay. Don't know what got him, Dero or the sharks or the gators but he's dead, man. Ice."

He took advantage of their stunned disbelief to slip away. Both men eyed the other for a moment before sliding quickly into the car.

Rick didn't even look at Tripp. They both knew what the destination was.

They were headed for Hell's Bay.


	19. Chapter 19

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Nineteen**

Horatio wasn't certain whether he was awake or still dreaming. His perceptions were all somewhat skewed; dimly he realized he was feverish. So much for finding a place to clean up. It was already too late. Between the bacteria and the open wound, he was in sad shape.

He was pretty weak, he discovered when he tried to get out of his seated spot. His legs felt like rubber, and the fevered twist to his thoughts wasn't helping.

He needed to find his people. They would be able to help him unobtrusively, and perhaps help him find out who else he could trust. Something had gone horribly wrong with the operation, and until he knew what had happened there, he didn't dare show his face anywhere. That much was burned into his fevered mind.

Eric. Eric would help him, no matter what. Gone was the remembrance of Eric's injury, of his condition; all Horatio could recall was Eric's face. Eric would help him. But he was so hot… the heat was making him dizzy. Maybe if he just slipped into the water he would be able to cool off.

He had to find Eric. But he needed to cool off first. He managed to get out of the shack and over the side of the crumbling walkway into the water and blessed its chill. One hand gripped the nearest piling, keeping his head above water, but the rest of him was mercifully submerged. Cool water was his friend.

All thought ground to a halt as the water began to work its magic on his overheated body. But when he tried to climb out, his weakened state wouldn't allow it. In a moment of crystal clarity, just before his mind shut down once more, he realized he had to get out of the water or he would die. He would either drown when his strength finally failed completely or die of hypothermia once the sun went down, if he managed to survive that long. But the fever was raging once more, and his thoughts were again becoming remote, no longer coherent. The water was cool against his hot skin, that was all that really mattered…

**********

Eric flipped open his own cell as Calleigh spoke with her contact. It took less than one ring for Tripp to pick up. "Where are you guys?"

Tripp paused for a second while he tried to frame a reply. "Headed out to Hell's Bay," he said finally. "Got a tip we might find Horatio there. Bad news last night when Riaz showed up." He paused for a moment again. Finally he made a decision. They were Horatio's friends, his teammates. They deserved to know the possibilities. "Info we got says he's down."

Eric paled. "Hell's Bay, you might need a diver. Sit tight, I'm coming out." He snapped the phone closed without giving Tripp a chance to respond.

Calleigh had also ended her call. "Where are they?" she asked quickly. She was fairly quivering. "Have they found him?"

"Not yet." Eric almost couldn't stand to repeat Tripp's words to her. "I'm gonna grab my gear and head out there. I don't care if I'm followed, either. H is in trouble out there and I'm gonna help him."

"Get Alexx. This is now official, Eric, that's what I wanted to tell you." Calleigh's excitement was almost tangible and Ryan bounced up beside them. "Ryan, get your kit. We're to treat it as a crime scene… and Homeland Security wants him brought in as a witness if ---" she broke off quickly. The thought of Horatio's death was something none of them wanted to face. "They're willing to take custody and protect him until everything is sorted out."

"Whoa, take custody? You mean, arrest him?" Ryan's jaw dropped a fraction and then hardened. "No way. None of this is his fault, Calleigh, we can't let him be arrested for it!"

Calleigh glared at him for a moment as Eric ran to get his gear and notify Alexx. "We don't have a choice, Ryan. The Mala Noches think he's dead. This could be the only way to get him to safety if he *is* alive! If he's in custody he might be safe. And Todd --- Agent Windower --- has personally vouched for his safety. We're wasting time, Ryan. Wouldn't you rather have him in custody and alive than dead? Riaz is still out there, or had you forgotten?" She spun and headed for the door, Ryan hot on her heels.

"Calleigh, wait!" He grabbed her by the arm and dropped it quickly when she turned back to face him, fire in her eye. "I want to find him too. And yes, it'd be better to have him alive in custody than out there running from Riaz. But can you trust this guy? We thought we could trust the CIA and look where that got us!"

Calleigh stopped in her tracks. "We don't have a choice. And if Horatio *is* out there, and hurt, we need to move. Now." She turned and moved toward the door.

Ryan grabbed his kit and fell in step with her. "Okay. Easy, Calleigh, we're on your side, remember?"

Calleigh got into the Hummer and just sat for a minute. "I am so sorry," she said softly. "Ryan, you didn't deserve any of that. I don't know what came over me."

"I do. You've been the one holding it together, Calleigh, while the rest of us were melting down. Only so long you can hold it in before you lose it." He put a hand over hers for a moment and then turned the key himself. "Let's get moving. If you're still talking to me when this is all over, we'll be okay."

**********

Tripp and Rick were scanning the area when the Hummer pulled in, closely followed by the Coroner's van. Alexx stepped out carefully, but Eric was moving fast. "Easy, Delko," Tripp growled. "We've already covered the area twice. You better suit up. If he's in the water…"

"Any outbuildings?" Calleigh asked as she and Ryan joined the group. "What about that shack?"

"What's left of it. A little blood on the back wall, but I don't know how you'll separate it from the rest of the filth. It doesn't look good, guys."

Eric nodded and got into his gear. Tripp got his rifle from the trunk and started walking toward the sea side. Calleigh and Ryan went toward the shack, hoping to find some evidence of recent tenancy, some sign that Horatio himself had been there.

Rick lifted his binoculars again, scanning the landward side of the bay. There had to be some sign, some disturbance, some indication that Horatio had been here.

Eric slipped into the water on the sea side, trusting Tripp to keep the gators and the sharks off him, and began a gridded search. Minutes became an hour, then two. Finally he surfaced and pulled up his mask, dropped his breather, and shook his head. "No sign here," he growled as he scrambled up the bank. "I'll check the land side as soon as I change tanks. Anyone else got anything?"

Calleigh and Ryan shook their heads. "Shell casings, enough for a small army. A lot on the roadway; maybe he made it across. Blood in the shack might be fairly fresh. It was only tacky. Someone got hit in the last twenty-four hours." The unspoken thought was in all their minds: That someone could have been Horatio.

Eric nodded and slipped into the water. There was a dilapidated walkway leading to the shack, but no signs of life. Wait --- was that a handprint? He stopped for a moment and motioned Tripp closer. "I got a wet handprint on one of the pilings!" he shouted back. The rest of the team closed in, staying on dry land but close enough to offer support, and Rick swept the area again with the binoculars. Nothing.

Eric shallow-dived, letting himself ease through the murky water, carefully checking the weeds and tangling growth for body parts. That print was wet, so it couldn't have been there too long. Were they too late? They couldn't be, he wouldn't accept that. So where could H be? There just wasn't much place for him to hide in out here, unless he was under the water. And under the water meant dead.

He covered the area in slow, ever expanding circles from the piling. There, about a hundred yards ahead of him, was that a bank? He surfaced again, noticing he wasn't too far from the piling but he was behind some thick growth. Yes, there was a small bank there, a tiny bit of land in the wilds of the swamp, and on the bank…

He scrambled up, throwing his breather off and stripping his mask to fall beside the body. "Don't be dead, H, have a pulse, please," he pleaded as he got one hand inside the collar of the waterlogged t-shirt. A flutter, two. He gathered Horatio into his arms and started yelling. "I got him!" he bellowed, knowing they would have to follow the sound of his voice. "Here, he's here! We need a Rescue! Hang on, H, hang on… I got you, you're safe now, I promise. I got you… just hold on, H, please!" He bent his head close to the redhead's, his lips lightly brushing Horatio's. "Don't you leave me again, H. I'm here, you're safe. I got you, and I'm not letting go. You're safe." Another head lift, another howl. "He's here! We need a Rescue right now!"


	20. Chapter 20

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Twenty**

The waiting room was crowded, but no one wanted to leave.

Eric had almost needed to be forcibly separated from Horatio, but Alexx had finally gotten through to him that she would watch over the redhead and keep everyone informed of what was being done. She had guided him to a chair and placed him in it as gently as if he had been one of her children and gone to supervise Horatio's treatment, hoping the others would be able to keep Eric occupied and not let him worry too much.

Ryan was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, and his eyes focused on the doors to the treatment area. He hadn't moved since they'd arrived, some two hours previously.

Tripp and Rick sat watching Eric carefully for signs of meltdown. He'd insisted on riding with Horatio, which was understandable to both men, but he'd said barely a word since he'd been made to wait. His eyes remained fixed on the doorway the doctors had disappeared through and his face was shuttered and still, so still it seemed carved of stone.

Of them all, only Calleigh remained seemingly untouched. She was talking with the agent from Homeland Security, appearing calm, composed, and professional as always. Then, when they had finished their conference, she returned to the others. "Okay, we've got a reprieve until we find out how Horatio is, and then they'll want to interview us. Which, of course, is standard procedure." She cast a glance to the doors as Alexx stepped through.

Alexx gave them all a small nod but it was Eric she went to first, kneeling to be on eyelevel with him and touching his cheek with one hand. "He's going to be fine, honey," she said gently as she turned his face to hers. "He's in bad shape, but he's going to be fine. His worst problem was the exposure, and that's been addressed. The gunshot wound is shallow, a groove across his lower back, no more than that. And the infection is being treated also. He'll be fine in a couple of days, okay? No more beating yourself up, baby. You got to him in time." She waited until she was sure he was listening to her, that he was aware of what she had said to him. "Come on. He's still asleep, but I made sure they'd let you sit with him. Let's just get you back there where you can see him."

She led him away, back into the labyrinth of the hospital itself, and Ryan detached himself from the wall as the agent approached them. "I'll go first, if it's all the same to you," he said evenly. He'd seen the brittle light in Calleigh's eyes, and he wanted to give her a moment. It was all too reminiscent of the expression she had worn at the lab when she had nearly taken his head off.

Windower nodded amiably and indicated a smaller waiting room just down the hall. "This won't take long," he said quietly as he ushered Ryan inside and closed the door behind them.

Calleigh had watched them go, and she understood what Ryan had done. "I'm going to get some coffee, guys, you want some? We might be here for a while yet. Frank, you take two sugars, right? Rick?" Her tone was as bright and cheerful as ever.

"I'll take mine black, Calleigh, thanks." Rick hadn't missed the flash in her eyes when Alexx had given them the good news; nor had he missed Wolfe's rather obvious attempt to protect her. Too bad she didn't need the protection. She seemed as self-contained as always. Something, though, seemed a little off.

He watched her walk away, unable to put his finger exactly on what was bothering him. But when she hadn't come back by the time Wolfe came out of the interview, he began to be a bit concerned. He nodded to Wolfe as he sat down and watched Tripp take his place, and then got up himself. "I'm gonna get some air," he said as he ventured toward the door Calleigh had disappeared through.

They all knew where the cafeteria was in the hospital; it was an occupational hazard of being a police officer. So when he didn't see her there, he got a little more apprehensive. He stepped back out into the hallway and a soft sound caught his attention.

There was someone in the room next to the cafeteria. The noise was repeated and this time he could identify it: a smothered sob. His hand was on the doorknob and turning it before he had even completed the thought that he should check on the person, make certain they were all right. What he wasn't prepared for was the shock of recognition that hit him when he saw Calleigh.

She turned away quickly, rubbing at her eyes and trying desperately to get herself under control. "I, um, I'll just be a minute, Rick, sorry," she said softly as she dried her eyes on her sleeve.

"Why are you sorry?" He stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder, not exerting any pressure, just resting it there for support. His other hand retrieved his handkerchief and offered it to her. "As much stress as you've been under, Calleigh, it's understandable. You can't hold it in forever. That's how you get ulcers, high blood pressure, strokes…" He let his voice trail off, the amusement in his words at odds with the concern he felt for her.

She shrugged out from underneath his touch and stepped a bit further away. "I'll be fine in a second. Thanks." She handed him back the hankie after drying her eyes a bit better and pasted a smile on her face, though it felt forced and weak. "I came down here to get coffee for us. Want to help me carry it back?"

Rick got in her space again, not pushing, not touching, but definitely close. "Calleigh, you can't do this to yourself," he said softly. "Being strong is a good thing in our line of work, and you're the strongest woman I know. But even the strongest person has to let go sometimes." One hand strayed upward and caressed her cheek gently. "It's okay to cry, Calleigh. And I promise I won't tell a soul that I saw you do it." He gave her a small, lopsided smile.

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but what emerged was a strangled sob. Once more her tears spilled over, all the fear, frustration, and relief of the past few days finally finding release. She let him hold her, feeling a startling amount of comfort from his arms around her, and when the storm finally passed she took the handkerchief he offered once more with a watery smile.

"Better?" he asked her softly as he helped her dry her tears. "Good. Now you can go be the boss again without the added stress." He gave her another smile, a bigger one this time. "And I promised, I won't tell." Now the smile was a grin.

She gave him a not so gentle tap on the shoulder with a shy smile of her own. "You'd better not," she half-laughed. "Now let's take coffee back before they come looking for us."

A discreet cough at the doorway broke them apart guiltily. Ryan kept his face composed, though inside he was boiling with unanswered questions. "Um, just came to make sure you were okay, Calleigh. You're up." He accepted her nod and let her pass, but got between Rick and the door. He waited until he was certain she couldn't hear and got up close and personal. "I trusted you on her word," he said softly, his voice full of menace. "She's like my sister, y'know?" One finger touched his lips for a moment before he again gave Rick the penetrating stare. "You hurt her, you even _think_ about playing her, and we're going to have a problem. You got that?" He stepped away.

Rick growled low in his throat for a moment before shrugging past. "Get your facts before you make threats, Wolfe," he snapped angrily. "If it's any of your business, which I doubt, there's nothing going on between me and Calleigh. And even if there was, I'd never hurt her. And if I did, you wouldn't have to do anything. She'd take care of it very well on her own." He gave Ryan another glare. "This isn't the time or place. You want a piece of me, wait until this is over." And he walked away, headed back to the waiting room.

***

Eric settled into the chair by the bed, not really paying much attention to Alexx once he saw H. The redhead looked pale and wan, not at all like his normal self, and Eric found himself worrying despite her reassuring murmurs. He gave no notice when she quietly slipped away; all his attention was focused on the still, cold hand he took with his own and the man it was attached to who lay so quietly and so limply upon the bed.

He couldn't help himself; his other hand reached out to lightly stroke a stray hair from Horatio's forehead, the touch feather-light. "I got you, H," he whispered tenderly. "You're safe now. I'm here."

"Good to know." The words were whisper-soft, but seemed as loud as a gunshot to the Cuban. The return pressure on his fingers was hesitant, but welcome.

"Hey, welcome back," he replied softly. "You scared the hell out of us, H, what were you thinking?" He brought Horatio's hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there, uncaring if there was anyone to see. "Don't do that to me again, please. I thought… I thought you were dead. Never been so happy in my life to find out I was wrong."

Horatio nodded weakly. "I heard your voice," he murmured. "Heard you say I was safe. Felt your touch…" His voice trailed off and his eyelids drooped wearily before he forced them back open. "Eric…"

"Hush, you just sleep now," Eric soothed him tenderly with a brush of his fingers over his love's face. "I'm not going anywhere. Just rest, I'll be here when you wake." He brushed his lips across Horatio's. "We can talk later. Just rest, _querido."_

Horatio let his eyes drift closed again, but his hand still gripped Eric's. The man had used a Spanish word, and his mind struggled to make sense of it as he felt sleep overtaking him again. _Querido,_ he thought to himself just as the darkness won out. It meant beloved…

***

Cordero stood silently, accepting the tongue-lashing with silent stoicism. He had failed in his duty, he knew it, and he wouldn't defend himself against Carlos' anger. But when Carlos began ranting furiously about Riaz, he decided he'd had enough. "Then I make it right," he said evenly. He must do this carefully. Riaz would want his death if he knew just exactly what Dero had done, and Carlos was just possibly angry enough to allow it. "He's in the hospital. I go in, do the hit, get out. No sweat." His mind was working overtime, trying to plan the move.

"Quickly, before Antonio demands satisfaction," Carlos barked. "Caine must be silenced before he can tell them of our plans." There was a loud thump as he banged a fist off the table again. "He has more lives than a cat, Caine does," he snarled furiously. "If you fail, don't come back. I have no wish to see you die at Riaz' hands."

"What about the others?" Dero asked quickly. "Delko and the rest of his team. He's been leaving them clues." He had to admire Horatio's guts. It had taken real courage to infiltrate the gang and still retain his honor. "We may be too late."

"Dispose of them. All of them. And _then_ get rid of Caine." Carlos became, if possible, even more enraged. "Take everything from him, and then kill him. He will beg you for death." A thought occurred to him and he paused. "Delko. You said he is," he paused for a moment, "_involved_ with the man? Then make certain he witnesses the death and make it as vicious as possible. I want him _broken_ before he dies."

Cordero nodded in acceptance of his orders and withdrew. This would have to be handled quite bluntly. There was no time for planning. He knew what had to be done, and it needed to be done quickly or it would be too late for anyone. With a soft sigh of resignation, he left the house.


	21. Chapter 21

**Part Twenty-One**

Horatio opened his eyes slowly. Someone was in the room. Eric would have been by the bedside, probably holding his hand; this man was different.

His eyes widened in recognition. Cordero. How had the big man gotten past the guards? He drew breath to call out, but Dero's hand over his mouth stopped him.

"Just listen," the Nicaraguan said softly as he bent down beside him. "I'm not here to hurt you. You're safe. But Carlos and Riaz, they think otherwise; and when I don't do the job they'll send someone who will. You got to have your people get you out of here before it's too late."

The click of a weapon being readied was loud in the stillness following his announcement. "You make one wrong move, you're a dead man," Eric growled from behind Cordero. "Take your hand off his face, slow and easy, and put both of them on your head."

Horatio sat up stiffly as Cordero complied. "Eric, it's all right," he said with great effort. "He was… delivering a warning."

Eric didn't waver. "He's delivered it." He gestured with his pistol for Cordero to move to the side and waited for the man to sit down with his back against the wall. "Feel like passing it along to me?" His eyes never left Cordero. The man was huge. He looked like a bulldozer made human. "And just who the hell are you? You're wearing a Nueva tat, so I'm not so sure we should trust you anyway."

"Eric." Horatio's voice was firm, if still a bit soft. "He's been covering for me with the Nuevas. You can trust him." He turned his attention to Dero for a moment. "Explain. Now." He was so used to the big man taking his orders that he didn't think twice about it, although he did feel a moment's unease about placing his trust so firmly in the Nicaraguan. But the die was cast.

Cordero took his hands from his head and rose, no longer obedient to Eric's demands, and Eric held his weapon steady. He had to look up at the other man, which made him a bit nervous; but he didn't let it show. "You can put that down, Delko," Dero said evenly. "I'm not a threat to you. Never was." He kept his hands in view. "Go ahead and frisk me. I'm unarmed."

Eric's eyes went to Horatio and back to the big man uneasily. Slowly he lowered his weapon and holstered it. "H trusts you. Good enough for me." Was he making a mistake? He didn't think so. And Horatio had vouched for him, so it should be all right. "Let's start over, okay? Eric Delko." He extended his hand.

Horatio relaxed slightly as Cordero took the outstretched hand with a firm shake. "Name's Dero. Owe you both some explanations, but I got to get in touch with other people first," he said apologetically. "You willing to wait just a bit longer? And we got to move you quick before they figure out I'm not coming back."

Eric looked to Horatio, who nodded stiffly. He was trying to get out of bed, though, and Eric wasn't having that. "You just sit back there, H. You, make your phone calls or whatever it is and let me take care of him. We're not going anywhere." He went to the bedside and helped Horatio get comfortably settled once more, then sat by him on the bed with one hand intertwined with Horatio's.

Dero nodded and moved to the other side of the room to give them a little privacy while he made his calls. He kept his voice down.

Eric didn't really understand what was going on; but he was willing to forgo explanations for as long as it took. And with Horatio on the mend, everything was turning out okay. He was content to sit at the redhead's side, occasionally stroking his thumb across H's hand in comfortable silence.

He really wasn't trying to listen in on Dero's phone call, either. But when he heard Windower mentioned, he sat up with a jerk. He waited only until the big man had closed the phone before pouncing. "You talking about Agent Windower of DHS?" he asked quickly. "Could've saved you some trouble. He's here at the hospital. Been doing interviews with us. He should be right outside."

**(Waiting Room)**

Calleigh looked up as Windower snapped his phone shut with a curse. "Round up your people, Cal," he growled as he headed toward Horatio's room. "Meet me. This won't take long and it'll answer a lot of your questions."

"We're all here." She motioned them to follow and bolted after Windower. Answers for those questions would be welcome; and it looked like they'd be able to see Horatio in the bargain. "What's going on?

She and the others crowded into the room and she moved up to stand next to him, giving a smile to Horatio who was awake and looked fairly aware. Her eyes widened as she took in another man standing close and she wondered how he had gotten past everyone into the room.

Windower moved forward to take the big man's hand. "Glad you made it out," he said easily. "Gentlemen, and Ms. Duquesne of course. I would like you to meet Capitan Cordero Quintana of the Nicaraguan Defense Force."

Horatio blinked. It certainly explained a good few things. Most notably, how the big man had known Eric's name. "It seems we were keeping secrets from each other," he remarked with a wry smile.

Dero gave him a grin. "I couldn't tell you until I knew you were on the up and up," he gave out apologetically. "We had no warning you were going under. Had to assume you were dirty. And once I was sure you weren't, there was no time."

Horatio nodded in agreement. He would have said more, but what had passed between them was private, and should be discussed that way. Privately. But he was tiring quickly, and all he wanted was to drift off to sleep with Eric's hand in his own. It didn't even faze him that Stetler was present; he just couldn't summon up enough energy to care.

He heard them chattering amongst themselves, heard them discussing the situation, the measures being taken, the evidence, but he couldn't force his eyes to stay open. He felt Eric's fingers on his hand, heard his soft voice, and relaxed into sleep.

TBC…


	22. Chapter 22

DISCLAIMER: I don't own CSI: Miami or anything else that belongs to CBS, more's the pity. I'm just having a little fun and promise to put everyone back where I found them with no harm done. I no own, you no sue, okay?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This story is set in an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. This means that the faces and features may differ slightly from Canon. It does NOT mean that they will act out of character, so if you want to see Horatio dress in drag and do the hula, you're out of luck. This story is set post Season 4… hence the AU. It will contain SPOILERS for all seasons, including season 4 and the finale. IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED, DON'T READ.

SLASH WARNING: This story will contain SLASH in later chapters. This is the description and/or discussion of m/m sex. If this offends you, DON'T READ.

FEEDBACK: I crave it. I need it. Please be kind and leave a review! Like it, hate it, tell me why!

DEDICATIONS: How could I have forgotten this before? Dedicated to Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post my serious writing; to Eddie (AJ) who keeps me sane and helps me fight off the hysteria when the words won't come; River, who beta's my work and keeps me honest, and is endlessly patient with my rants and insecurity. You guys are my lifeline, and you just ROCK. Hugs for being there for me.

**Part Twenty-two**

**(Three weeks later)**

Horatio stood on his deck, arms resting on the railing as he gazed out over the water. There had been a lot to take in, once he was rested and on the road to recovery, and he was still trying to sort some of it out.

He was grateful he'd been allowed to go home, to be honest. He could very well have been sitting in a jail cell to do his thinking. Agent Windower had been quite passionate in his defense, he knew. The agent had even hinted at some future involvement with DHS while he was pulling Horatio's ass off the line.

Windower had stuck his neck out about three miles to get Horatio off the hot seat, and Horatio wasn't about to forget it. But as things stood now, it was all over but the shouting. Homeland Security had taken charge of the operation and stopped Riaz and company from starting a bloodbath; his people were all safe and relatively unharmed; and Rick Stetler had signed off on MDPD's internal investigation and cleared Horatio of any wrong-doing.

That had been somewhat of a shock in itself. He and Rick had been nothing short of mortal enemies for a long time. That Rick would put aside their animosity when presented with an iron-clad, perfect opportunity to destroy him said a lot. Of course, his apparent interest in Calleigh might have had something to do with it.

That had been a bit of a shock, too. He'd credited Calleigh with more taste and more intelligence than to be involved with Rick. However, they were both adults. It still bothered him. Rick had a history of violent behavior with his women.

It would sort itself out, and he had no right to interfere. And if Rick *did* become violent with Calleigh, she would put paid to it in a hurry. She was quite capable of taking care of herself.

Horatio let his thoughts ramble on, looking for peace and not finding any. No matter the outcome of the operation, no matter that Windower had pulled strings to protect him and keep him on the right side of the law, no matter that he had been exonerated of any wrong-doing by everyone… there were still four dead police officers and one dead CIA operative on his conscience. It didn't matter to him that he hadn't fired the kill shots, either. Each one of those deaths was a direct result of his actions.

His thoughts ran round in his head, in no particular order, and finally they ran around to Eric. What was he going to do about Eric? He would ~never~ have acted on his attraction had the situation not been so dire. Not only had he been uncertain Eric would be receptive to the idea, he was concerned about their working relationship. At least be honest with yourself, he thought tiredly. He wouldn't have acted on it because he was afraid of losing Eric as well.

Everyone he had gotten close to had been taken from him in on form or another. And Marisol… his marriage to her had been mere convenience. For her. She had wanted a normal life, everything one was expected to have… the husband, the two-car garage, the two point five kids… and he had offered to give that to her out of a misguided desire to see ~Eric~ happy.

The fact that Eric seemed to share his attraction was another factor to be considered. He'd never dreamed it would be reciprocated; but what was he going to do about it? The prudent thing would be to allow it to go no further. He was Eric's supervisor, it wouldn't look appropriate. But did he care?

Then, too, Eric was a bit of a playboy. He was constantly shifting between women, never seeming to stay with one for very long at all. Would he treat Horatio with the same cavalier approach? Would he even be interested?

There was no escape from his thoughts, nowhere to hide from the questions he needed to answer. Even the sea couldn't bring peace to his troubled mind today.

Footsteps on the deck alerted him to the man's presence and he didn't turn, even when Eric leaned against the rail next to him, so near their skin almost touched. They stood in silence for a time, enjoying the view and the calm. Finally Eric cleared his throat. "You've been avoiding me," he said softly.

Horatio didn't turn. His gaze never left the water… but he felt somehow attuned to the younger man. "That certainly wasn't my intent," he replied evenly. "I was… trying to think things through."

"And? Sounds like you haven't made a lot of progress." Eric's words were tinged with humor. "H… I got to say this, okay? I won't push things, if you don't want to. But I'd like to try this. You and me, I mean."

Horatio did turn then, regarding the younger man seriously. Finally he was able to form the words, but they only emerged reluctantly. "That's, um, good to know, Eric. But you'd better be certain it's what you want." His voice grew stronger as he leaned in to bridge the short distance between them. The kiss was tender, soft, reassuring, and made him want more all at the same time. "Because I won't let you go." Damn the conventions, damn work, and damn everything else that stood in their way. He wanted Eric and he wasn't going without any longer. He was through denying himself.

Eric wrapped his arms around Horatio and grinned back. "Possessive. I like it."


End file.
